THE  ETHEL  CARR  PEACOCK 
MEMORIAL  COLLECTION 


Matris  amori  monumentum 


TRINITY  COLLEGE  LIBRARY 


DURHAM,  N.  C. 
1903 

Gift  of  Dr.  and  Mrs.  Dred  Peacock 


r  a 


2mM 


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THE  RECREATIONS 

t 

OF  A 

PRESIDING  ELDER. 


BY  THE  REV.  PAUL  WHITEHEAD,  D.D., 

Of  the  Virginia  Conferenc1l|Kri11^.  Church,  South. 


NASHVILLE,  TENN.  : 

SOUTHERN  METHODIST  PUBLISHING  HOUSE. 


Entered,  according  to  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  1885, 
By  the  Book  Agents  of  the  Methodist  Ei'iscorAL  Church,  South, 
in  the  Office  of  the  Librarian  of  Congress,  at  Washington. 


& 

PREFACE. 

These  papers  were  originally  contributed  to  the  Rich- 
mond Christian  Advocate.  I  have  ventured  to  add  to  the 
series  which  appeared  in  that  journal  some  articles  which 
were  written  as  editorials  in  the  same  paper,  when  the 
writer  happened  to  be  editor  pro  tern.  The  circumstances 
of  their  original  appearance  will  explain  local  allusions  in 
the  articles.  They  are  collected  in  book  form  with  the 
hope  that  they  may  be  worthy  of  being  added  to  the  list 
of  volumes  issuing  from  the  Publishing  House  which  com- 
bine entertainment  and  instruction.  P.  W. 

Richmond,  Va.,  April,  1885. 


Digitized  by 

the  Internet  Archive 

in  2014 

https://archive.org/details/recreationsofpreOOwhit_0 


CONTENTS. 


No.    Page 

1.  Introductory   7 

2.  A  Bainy  Day   12 

3.  An  Evening's  Music   16 

4.  The  Old  Preacher   21 

5.  The  Layman  of  To-day   26 

6.  Earth-worms   31 

7.  Deep-sea  Fishes   40 

8.  Two  Deaths   51 

9.  The  General  Conference  of  1882   56 

10.  The  Thomasites   63 

11.  Country  Church-yards   70 

12.  The  Quarter  Stretch   77 

13.  Unconscious  Selfishness  .   87 

14.  Doers  of  the  Word   95 

15.  The  Tunnel  of  Death   99 

16.  Starting  the  Machine   103 

17.  The  Itinerant's  Sacrifice   108 

18.  The  Itinerant's  Wife   115 

19.  The  Old  North  State   121 

20.  Gloomy  Weather   127 

21.  Systematic  Men  . . .  ,   132 

22.  Machinery  in  the  Church   137 

23.  Music  in  Olden  Days   144 


(5) 


6 


Contents. 


No.  Page 

24.  Protracted  Meetings   149 

25.  The  Death  of  the  Old   155 

26.  The  Eed  Sunsets   162 

27.  "Custer's  Last  Charge"   167 

28.  Ice-making   173 

29.  Sorrowful  Holidays   180 

30.  A  Future  State   186 

31.  Hollywood  Cemetery   191 

32.  Monuments  in  Hollywood   196 

33.  Monuments  in  Hollywood  {continued)   205 

34.  An  Elocutionary  Pulpit   215 


Regreations  of  a  Presiding  Elder. 


Ho.  1. 

INTRODUCTORY. 
NT>  why  not?  Why  should  not  a 
presiding  elder  have  recreations? 
'No  man  has  a  more  relentless  and 
vacationless  routine.  He  is  expected  to  have 
no  "hot  terms"  or  winter  freezings  up.  He 
is  not  expected  to  send  anybody  else  in  his 
place,  unless  he  be  sick  or  holding  a  quarter- 
ly-meeting somewhere  else.  Naturally  he  is 
to  be  always  well  and  never  absent.  He  is 
not  expected  to  dedicate  churches,  or  marry 
rich  people  at  a  distance,  or  preach  com- 
mencement sermons,  or  take  excursions. 
Why  should  not  presiding  elders  have  recrea- 
tions, if  they  can  manage  it?  And  perhaps 
the}r  do  have  them.  If  "that  which  cometh 
on  [them]  daily,  the  care  of  all  the  church- 
es," will  allow,  somewhere  in  the  middle  of 
the  week  they  may  find  time. 

The  present  writer  is  thinking  of  taking  a 
thought  or  so  "  on  the  wing,"  as  it  were,  and 


8        Recreations  of  a  Presiding  Elder. 


bagging  it  for  the  benefit  of  your  readers,  Mr. 
Advocate;  and  while  thus  diversifying  his 
employment  of  time,  he  may  recreate  his 
flagging  energies,  and  it  may  be  do  good  by 
a  shot  from  a  bow  drawn  "  at  a  venture." 
lie  "  minds  "  him — as  the  Scotch  say — of  the 
"Recreations  of  a  Country  Parson."  If  he 
might  only  find  the  pen  of  so  ready  a  writer, 
he  might  turn  hours  of  recreation  or  enforced 
cessation  of  work  to  good  account,  and  say 
many  things  pleasantly,  if  not  wisely,  in  the 
course  of  the  four  quarters.  Boyd, the  "  Coun- 
try Parson,"  wrote  one  of  his  articles  on  the 
paper  held  on  the  flat  part  of  his  horse's  fore- 
head between  and  above  the  eyes,  as  he  pet- 
ted the  family  nag  in  the  stable,  with  the 
manger  for  a  seat  and  the  stable  surround- 
ings for  inspiration.  (I  see  a  stable  now  and 
then  in  my  rounds  where  I  couldn't  have 
stood,  sat,  or  been  inspired  !)  That  was  an 
odd  conceit;  but  I  might  seek  a  table  almost 
as  queer.  The  pine-leaves  spread  as  a  carpet 
in  these  woods  may  do;  or  that  stump,  more 
level  than  its  fellows;  or  yonder  fence-rail, 
broad  and  smooth;  a  big  chip  in  the  oak 
woods  of  home,  or  a  rock  in  the  glens  lined 


Introductory. 


with  the  ferns  and  wild  ginger,  loved  from 
boyhood. 

On  some  such  basis  I  can  scribble  what 
passes  through  "the  musing  mind,"  at  times 
that  call  for  no  professional  labor.  And  think- 
ing of  whither  it  is  to  go  when  scribbled  sets 
me  to  musing  for  the  thousandth  time  about 
the  press  and  its  incessant  issues.  Every- 
where we  meet  them:  the  newsboy  on  the 
train,  the  black  venders  of  newspapers  about 
the  depots,  the  counters  of  bookstores  and 
news-shops,  the  circulars  and  "specimen- 
pages,"  with  which  every  man  is  deluged 
wThose  name  is  unfortunate  enough  to  have 
been  printed  in  any  wise.  Books,  pamphlets, 
papers,  broadsides,  plain  and  illustrated — the 
land  is  flooded  !  For  good  or  evil,  with  light 
or  darkness;  upon  minds  of  all  sorts,  from  the 
negro  spelling  along  the  road  to  knowledge 
to  the  scholar  in  his  library.  Who  can  trace 
the  effects  or  calculate  the  power  of  all  this? 

We  must  do  our  best  to  make  our  Meth- 
odist press  powerful  for  good  this  year.  It 
has  already  carried  blessings  to  thousands; 
let  us  try  to  get  it  into  every  crevice  and  cor- 
ner.   The  "Old  Richmond,''  with  its  edito- 


10      Recreations  of  a  Presiding  Elder. 


rials  and  other  matter  for  grown  folks,  and 
"Uncle  Larry's"  column  for  the  little  ones — 
may  its  pleasant  face  shine  in  many  a  new 
spot,  and  brighten  and  benefit  many  a  house- 
hold hitherto  unblessed! 

The  paucity  of  reading  families  among  our 
people  oppresses  me.  It  is  not  poverty — the 
poorest  often  read  most.  Mr.  Wesley's  coll- 
ier converts  were  poorer  than  our  late  slaves, 
but  they  read.  It  is  ignorance,  it  is  intel- 
lectual stupidity,  it  is  the  rust  and  canker 
of  worldliness;  minds  are  sometimes  quick, 
and  even  preternaturally  sharp,  but  it  is  in 
the  direction  of  money-getting,  and  not  in 
that  of  wisdom-getting — celestial  wisdom — 
"the  principal  thing." 

There  are  cheerful  spots  and  signs.  The 
Sunday-schools;  a  family  with  tables  that 
have  books,  some  new  and  showing  use;  the 
thoughtful  eye  opened  upon  you  as  you  stand 
up  to  preach  (what  man  of  God  cannot  dis- 
cern them  among  his  hearers?);  the  children 
attending  good  schools  (though  too  many  of 
them  contract  no  taste  for  literature) ;  the 
conversation  now  and  then  breaking  away 
from  business,  weather,  and  crops,  and  neigh- 


Introductory. 


11 


borhood  gossip — these  are  hopeful  things. 
But  0  the  leaden  pall  of  ignorance  and  prej- 
udice, unlifted  by  any  taste  for  books  or  pa- 
pers, or  sign  of  any  such  taste  beginning, 
that  lies  upon  the  masses!  And  while  it  lies 
there  what  hope  of  doing  much  good  to  such 
people  by  sermons  and  conversations?  When 
reading  and  thinking  people  lose  so  much  of 
a  sermon,  what  hope  that  these  will  carry 
away  a  solitary  grain  of  rightly-divided  truth  ? 
They  will  have  gone  to  church  and  gone 
home,  and  that  will  be  nearly  all. 

Let  the  preachers  in  the  Church  Confer- 
ences press  inquiry  third:  "Is  our  religious 
literature  circulated  and  read?"  and  speak 
words  "in  season"  in  private;  and  let  our 
intelligent  people  second  the  movement. 


12      Recreations  of  a  Presiding  Eider. 


No.  2. 

A  RAINY  DAY. 
RAINY  Saturday— chill,  gloomy, 
with  a  steady  down-pour!  No  hope 
of  service  or  even  of  Quarterly  Con- 
ference to-day  !  Thank  God,  it  is  not  Sun- 
day !  Some  cheer  in  that  view.  As  the  man 
of  God  who  had  alternately  the  gout  and  the 
stone,  when  he  had  one  thanked  God  that  it 
was  not  the  other,  so  when  some  weeks  ago  the 
snow  shut  out  a  Sabbath  service,  I  could  bless 
God  that  Saturday  had  been  tolerably  fair, 
and  that  Quarterly  Conference  had  been  held 
with  respectable  numbers.  And,  as  it  has 
often  happened,  to-morrow  may  be  as  bright 
as  May. 

How  nice  to  be  able,  housed  and  disabled 
from  active  movements,  to  spend  the  dreary 
day  in  pleasant  converse  with  a  clever  book ! 
Blessings  on  the  great  printing  art,  which 
robs  long  nights  in  winter  of  their  dullness, 
and  makes  civilization  and  refinement  come 
in  place  of  the  barbarism  which  fought  all 


13 


day  with  brutes  or  savages,  gorged  itself  with 
meat  and  drink  at  sunset,  and  then  slept  oft* 
the  debauch  !  Reading  and  pleasant  friends 
can  make  agreeable  even  a  rainy  Saturday. 

What  a  grand  agency  of  Providence  this 
"  weather  bureau  "  is  ! 

The  thirsty  ground  has  been  drinking  at  a 
great  rate  for  many  weeks,  what  it  so  much 
longed  for  last  summer,  and  for  lack  of  which 
it  n earl y  perished.  Much  of  the  soil  will  be 
fit  emblem  of  an  improving  Christian.  "  For 
the  earth  that  drinketh  in  the  rain  that  com- 
eth  oft  upon  it,  and  bringeth  forth  herbs 
meet  for  them  by  whom  it  is  dressed,  receiv- 
eth  blessings  from  God."  May  it  be  so  with 
my  district!  Lord  of  the  harvest,  send  the 
spiritual  showers!  Where  drought  parched 
last  year  let  times  of  refreshing  come  from 
the  presence  of  the  Lord  this  year!  There 
come  back  to  me  remembrances  of  some 
"years  of  the  right-hand  of  the  Most  High" 
in  my  earlier  religious  days.  One  was  in  a 
place  seemingly  barren;  but  in  answer  to  the 
prayers  of  some  faithful  souls  in  all  the 
churches,  there  came  such  a  shower  of  Di- 
vine influence  as  it  will  be  impossible  for  any 


14      Recreations  of  a  Presiding  Elder. 


who  felt  it  to  forget.  Glorious  fruit  of  it 
remains  to  this  clay;  and  some  of  it,  if  we 
gather  up  all  the  good  resulting  and  connect- 
ed, "shakes  like  Lebanon."  That  and  an- 
other great  outpouring  of  the  Spirit  I  re- 
member, near  the  same  date,  were  in  May. 

There  is  no  reason  why  "  revivals  "  should  be 
"  confined,"  as  a  veteran  presiding  elder  said, 
"  to  fodder-pulling-  time."  I  have  rather  lost 
faith  in  the  efficacy  of  set  protracted-meetings 
regularly  held  summer  after  summer  at  each 
church.  They  come  to  be  regarded  as  a  mat- 
ter of  course,  and  also  by  many  as  a  neigh- 
borhood frolic  or  diversion.  On  the  whole, 
they  produce  less  and  less  in  number,  quality, 
and  stability  of  converts.  The  meetings  that 
come  clown  instead  of  being  got  up,  that 
force  themselves  upon  preachers,  keep  the 
ark  afloat.  Arranged  not  after  man's  plans 
or  man's  wisdom,  and  especially  with  no  par- 
ticular regard  to  man's  worldly  convenience, 
they  break  over  the  barriers  of  formalism  and 
worldliness,  and  sweep  all  before  them.  I 
trust  all  our  preachers  labor  for  immediate 
results,  summer  and  winter,  to  make  a  sav- 
ing impression  then  and  there  in  every  ser- 


A  Rainy  Day. 


15 


moo.  Let  them  watch  the  signs  and  press 
the  battle  where  the  enemy's  picket-line  falls 
back. 

For  the  same  reason  let  us  discourage  all 
set  evangelists  of  the  trade-revivalist  type. 
Doubtless  many  of  them  have  done  good  in 
various  places.  Some  of  them  have  done  no 
great  harm  anywhere,  but  the  general  effect 
of  their  position  and  assumed  calling  has 
been  to  depreciate  the  value  of  close,  steady, 
painstaking,  patient  pastoral  work,  and  to 
narrow  and  distort  the  souls  of  the  men  them- 
selves. Even  the  Church  itself  cannot  be  in 
a  continual  excitement,  and  these  men  soon 
become  of  little  account  in  any  other  circum- 
stances. Years  ago  I  read  in  Dr.  Nicholas 
Murray's  "Preachers  and  Preaching"  some 
wholesome  chapters  on  the  subject,  with  piqu- 
ant illustrations  from  actual  life;  and  I  in 
the  main  agree  with  him  yet,  notwithstand- 
ing the  Earles,  Howards,  Harrisons,  and  In- 
skips.  Of  course  no  man  need,  because  of 
such  reasons,  forbear  sending  for  help  to  his 
brethren  in  pastoral  and  other  work  not  too 
remote  from  him  and  his  people. 


16      Recreations  of  a  Presiding  Ehhr. 


No.  3. 

AN  EVENING'S  MUSIC. 
HIS  time  it  is  recreation,  sure  e- 
nough.  It  is  nearly  eleven  o'clock 
at  night — a  rainy  night,  with  heavy 
showers  and  a  gloomy  world  of  darkness  in- 
deed to  gaze  upon  when  we  go  to  the  window; 
but  within  all  is  bright  and  comfortable.  I 
have  been  sitting  since  about  nine  o'clock 
drinking  in  a  marvelous  draught  of  pleasure. 
Dr.  Watts  speaks  of  his  soul  sitting  and 
singing 

Herself  away 

To  everlasting  bliss. 

I  could  not  at  any  time,  and  least  of  all  now, 
do  much  at  singing;  but  I  think  just  at  pres- 
ent I  could  magnify  the  office  of  sitting;  and 
if  innocent  earthly  bliss — sweet  prelude  of 
the  "everlasting  bliss" — comes  ever  to  me, 
it  comes  in  the  guise  which  it  takes  to-night. 
A  dear  friend,  a  pianist  of  rare  ability,  has 
been  dispensing  the  riches  of  his  repertoire 
with  a  power  and  expression  seldom  heard 
anywhere.     The  exquisite  touch,  the  rare 


An  Everting' 's  Music. 


17 


conception  of  the  composer's  very  inward 
thoughts,  and  the  perfect  command  of  all  the 
technique  of  the  piano,  are  on  hand  to-night 
in  unusual  excellence  even  for  him;  and  the 
noble  instrument  sighs  and  breaks  its  heart 
with  Chopin,  thunders  majestically  with  Rob- 
ert Schumann,  or  sounds  all  depths  and 
utters  unspeakable  things  with  the  great 
Beethoven.  If  Sancho  Panza  was  right  in 
invoking  blessings  upon  "the  man  that  in- 
vented sleep,"  what  inestimable  good  ought 
to  be  wished  for  the  man  that  invented  music 
— for  that  rare  old  Jubal,  "the  father  of  all 
such  as  handle  the  harp  and  organ,"  or  some 
other  remote  ancestor  who  first  adventured 
upon  the  art  that  "brought  an  angel  down" 
to  earth!  I  am  his  debtor  largely.  Other 
descendants  of  his,  tuneless  and  insensible  to 
the  "concord  of  sweet  sounds,"  may  feel 
under  no  special  obligations  to  him;  but  I 
can  set  up  a  stone  at  point  after  point  all 
through  the  length  of  memory's  exercise,  and 
thank  God  for  great  enjoyment — pure  pleas- 
ures, fleeting  and  ethereal,  but  prophetic  of 
the  world  where  all  things  are  perfect  and 
eternal !  I  am  not  one  of  those  who  think 
2 


18      Recreations  of  a  Presiding  Elder. 


music  is  religious  intrinsically.  Least  of  all 
do  I  dream  that  the  greatest  musical  knowl- 
edge and  ability  have  any  power  to  work  a 
change  of  heart.  One  of  the  greatest  living 
musicians,  not  long  ago  visiting  this  country, 
is  an  incorrigible  and  desperate  gamester; 
and  another,  immoral  and  infidel,  takes  up 
and  puts  down  wives  with  Mormon-like  fa- 
cility. But  I  do  wonder  that  any  thing  "  un- 
holy and  unclean  "  can  live  in  the  presence 
of  this  glorious  art.  The  strains  that  the 
mighty  masters  have  composed  and  the  skill- 
ful performer  knows  how  to  render,  seem 
ofttimes  to  be  fragments  of  the  songs  of  an- 
gels that  have  fallen  down  upon  us  through 
some  rift  in  the  skies.  I  heard  once,  played 
by  an  orchestra  of  one  hundred  skilled  play- 
ers, a  slow  movement  of  a  symphony  which 
was  unearthly  in  its  sweetness  and  purity. 
It  lingers  in  my  impressions  as  matchless 
and  unapproachable.  I  can  recall  nothing 
of  it  distinctly,  but  my  heart  hardly  beat 
while  I  listened;  and  after  years  gone  by  it 
still  reigns  in  my  soul,  facile  princeps  of  all 
music  I  ever  heard. 

You  see  my  district  has  a  musical  point  in 


An  Ecening's  Music.  19 

it.  There  I  will  be  able  sometimes  to  refresh 
myself  and  comfort  myself  after  the  torture 
I  shall  suffer  from  barbarous  doings  in  sacred 
music;  for  I  shall  certainly  be  put  upon  that 
rack  occasionally.  I  affect  no  taste  for  great 
precision  and  excellence  in  that  respect;  I 
can  hear  and  enjoy  simple,  unpretentious 
hymns  and  sacred  melodies.  By  virtue  of 
their  own  sweetness  and  by  association,  many 
of  them  are  precious  to  me;  I  love  many  old 
tunes — some  of  them  unwritten,  so  far  as  I 
know — that  have  embodied  the  pious  aspira- 
tions and  emotions  of  good,  plain  men  and 
women  innocent  of  musical  art,  ignorant  of 
Handel  and  Beethoven,  and  the  "classic" 
music  of  any  age;  but  the  tune  devoid  of 
character,  a  lifeless  seesaw;  the  man  that 
sings  like  a  stick  or  a  piece  of  putty,  with  no 
expression,  no  idea  of  tempo,  no  soul  in  him; 
the  woman  who  plays  an  organ  staccato,  or 
whoops  with  a  constant  and  abominable  ex- 
aggeration of  the  portamento  (the  gliding  up 
to  or  down  from  a  note  which  artists  use  oc- 
casionally), "my  soul  hateth!"  From  all 
such,  "good  Lord,  deliver  us!"  Let  that  be 
an  additional  petition  in  the  Litany. 


20      Recreations  of  a  Presiding  Elder. 


Now  and  then  I  come  upon  spots  where 
singing  is  "a  lost  art."  I  suppose  it  was 
known  in  the  days  of  the  fathers,  when  most 
Methodists  sung  "with  the  spirit,"  if  not 
"with  the  understanding  also."  But  "a 
drought  has  since  succeeded,  and  a  sad  decline 
we  see."  The  fathers  that  raised  tunes, 
"  wThere  are  they?  "  and  the  itinerant  singing- 
masters,  "  do  they  live  forever?"  Theyoung 
men  and  maidens  are  tuneless  as  the  corn- 
stalks. You  can  sing  solo  in  those  regions, 
"  no  man  forbidding."  "The  world  of  mel- 
ody" is  all  your  own.  Be  it  so  that  your 
voice  is  like  that  of  a  bull-frog,  you  must 
croak,  or  worship  God  by  other  means  than 
"the  service  of  song." 


The  Old  Preacher. 


21 


No.  4. 
THE  OLD  PREACHER, 
O-DAY  1  am  spending  some  hours 
at  the  house  of  one  of  our  older 
preachers,  retired  from  the  active 
work.  Bereaved  of  the  dear  companion  of 
his  youthful,  brighter  years,  and  with  the 
time  of  the  "sear,  the  yellow  leaf"  fallen 
upon  him,  he  is  nevertheless  cheerful,  hospi- 
table, reading  and  taking  active  interest  in 
the  Church  and  its  affairs.  He  is  full  of 
reminiscence  and  instructive  anecdote,  tak- 
ing no  gloomy,  doleful  view  of  his  age  and 
surroundings. 

How  refreshing!  For  I  have  known  old 
preachers  who  were  querulous  and  grum- 
bling, sardonic  and  bitter,  sour  in  spirit,  and 
continually  asking,  "Why  were  the  former 
days  better  than  these  days?" 

It  is  a  sad  sight  to  see  a  man  once  eloquent 
and  energetic,  moving  and  charming  thou- 
sands in  the  great  congregation,  now  shat- 
tered by  disease  and  bowed  down  by  the 
weight  of  years ;  but  it  is  far  sadder  to  see 


22      Recreations  of  a  Presiding  Elder. 


him  also  invaded  by  the  acidities  and  petty 
earpings  of  an  unhappy  old  age.  Our  last 
years  should  surely  be  our  best;  and  it  is  well 
if  they  be  pervaded  by  a  sunny  religion  which 
sparkles  and  flashes  and  easts  its  heavenly  radi- 
ance over  gray  hairs  and  dismantled  homes. 

I  am  concerned  about  the  future  in  this 
life  of  many  of  the  oldest  members  of  our 
Conference.  Some  of  them  have  been  un- 
fortunate, some  improvident  and  bad  man- 
agers; some  have  felt  the  hand  of  affliction 
heavily  laid  upon  them;  some  of  them  have 
"no  certain  dwelling-place/'  and  yet  cannot 
"take  their  turn,"  perform  their  labor,  and 
be  provided  for  with  their  active  brethren. 
Our  Conference  collection  aids  them,  the 
"Relief"  Society  fund  grows  slowly,  and 
comes  forward  in  a  pinch;  but  the  prospect 
is  more  or  less  cheerless  with  many.  0  that 
it  were  in  the  heart  of  some  of  our  rich 
members,  who  have  made  their  hundreds  of 
thousands  in  trade  or  speculation — perhaps 
this  very  year — to  found  a  noble  charity  that 
would  provide  for  such!  Mr.  Corcoran's 
"Louise  Home"  for  decayed  gentlewomen 
is  a  charity  at  once  beneficent  and  graceful. 


The  Old  Preacher. 


23 


They  are  simply  distressed  and  impoverished 
people  of  refinement,  formerly  in  wealth  and 
comfort,  whom  he  relieves.  Nothing  is  due 
to  them  for  any  thing  they  have  done  save 
acknowledgment  of  the  faithfulness  with 
which  they  adorned  their  former  station  ;  yet 
he  felt  how  excellent  a  thing  it  would  be  to 
smooth  the  path  to  the  grave  of  such  old 
gentlewomen. 

But  our  old  ministers,  sick,  worn  out,  and 
reduced,  are  men  who  once  dispensed  spirit- 
ual blessings  to  thousands,  and  as  the  agents 
of  God's  redeeming  grace  saved  many  from 
eternal  death.  The  Church  owes  them  shel- 
ter, sustenance,  and  relief  from  care.  There 
ought  to  be  a  place  provided,  beautiful  and 
comfortable  —  an  earthly  ante-chamber  of 
heaven— in  which  these  old  soldiers  of  the 
cross  could  wait  for  the  messenger  bringing 
everlasting  rest  and  glory. 

But  why  suggest  that  rich  men  should  do 
this?  Cannot  the  multitude  of  men  of  little 
means,  who  yet  have  something  to  give,  and 
above  all,  generous  hearts,  unite  in  its  ac- 
complishment? Perhaps  they  might,  but 
upon  them  is  being  thrown  every  burden. 


24      Recreations  of  a  Presiding  .Elder. 


They  it  is,  not  the  rich,  who  furnish  the  reg- 
ular support  of  the  ministry;  who  keep  up 
our  regular  collections,  who  relieve  the  hulk 
of  the  poor,  and  sustain  our  religious  news- 
papers and  publishing  interests.  If  our  col- 
leges are  ever  endowed  they  will  probably 
have  to  do  it  hy  slow  and  steady  giving,  for 
it  is  plain  to  my  mind  that  the  rich  are  not 
going  to  do  it.  Men  who  put  $50,000  in  a 
house,  and  spend  thousands  upon  luxurious 
furniture  and  living — whose  annual  outlay  in 
their  families  is  twenty  or  thirty  times  the 
living  of  many  generous  and  self-sacrificing 
plain  men — think  they  have  done  great  things 
in  donating  five  or  six  thousand  to  a  college. 
Occasionally  one  gives  an  organ  or  a  steeple, 
or  a  ten-thousand-dollar  church,  and  thinks 
he  has  exhausted  Christian  benevolence  for 
the  rest  of  his  life;  or,  if  a  twinge  of  con- 
science take  him  in  "a  cold  snap,"  consoles 
himself  by  spending  a  few  hundreds  upon 
the  freezing  poor.  Our  D'Arcy  Pauls  have 
no  successors  yet.  The  really  rich  dare  not 
apply  to  their  income  a  scale  of  giving  like 
his.  To  think  of  doing  so  would  frighten 
them  out  of  a  week's  sleep  ! 


The  Old  Preacher. 


25 


Meantime,  while  this  provision  for  the  aged 
and  worn-out  remains  Unco  Detracted,  I  am 
daily  admiring  the  courage  and  devotion  and 
self-sacrifice  of  the  average  preacher.  Men 
who  have  the  gifts  and  energy  and  education 
to  have  made  abundance,  if  not  riches,  in  any 
ordinary  business,  are  living  on  salaries  of 
from  $500  to  $850,  and  "managing  some- 
how" to  clothe  and  feed  their  families — 
often  large  ones — and  educate  the  boys  and 
girls.  For  Christ's  sake,  for  the  glory  of  his 
name  and  the  advancement  of  his  cause,  they 
"gladly  wander  up  and  down,  and  smile  at 
toil  and  pain."  Surely  the  days  of  heroism 
are  not  past ! 

And  I  am  not  reproaching  our  people. 
They  do  better  for  their  preachers,  as  a  whole, 
than  others  do  for  theirs.  If  their  ministe- 
rial lottery  has  no  prizes,  it  has  few  or  no 
blanks 


26      Recreations  of  a  Presiding  Elder. 


No.  5. 

THE  LAYMAN  OF  TODAY. 
F  my  journeyings  bring  to  my 
knowledge  the  heroism  and  devo- 
tion of  the  average  preacher,  they 
do  not  the  less  reveal  the  worth  and  piety 
and  fidelity  of  the  average  layman. 

In  our  Church,  in  town  and  country,  he 
belongs  to  the  middle  class — a  denomination 
not  at  all  answering  to  what  is  so  called  in 
England,  where  it  means,  almost  always,  a 
shop-keeper  of  some  sort;  and  still  less  an- 
swering to  the  shop  class  in  Germany  and 
Continental  Europe  generally,  where  the 
word  they  use  implies  a  doubtful  honesty  as 
well  as  lack  of  refinement;  but  correspond- 
ing to  the  yeomen  of  "  Merry  England"  and 
the  burgher  of  the  Middle  Ages — the  class  in 
which  liberty  has  always  flourished. 

If  he  be  a  farmer,  he  is  of  the  independent 
kind  who  are  ready  to  reply  to  offers  of  place 
and  promotion,  "I  dwell  among  mine  own 
people;"  if  a  merchant  or  mechanic,  he  is 
of  the  thriftier  class,  who  do  honest  work, 


The  Layman  of  To-day. 


21 


and  manage  to  get  paid  for  it.  No  serf  or 
bondsman,  be  owns  his  land ;  and  in  bis  borne, 
more  or  less  comfortable,  shelters  the  nest- 
lings of  his  heart.  In  trade  he  is  no  restless 
speculator  dreaming  of  wealth  well-nigh 
gambled  for,  driving  every  thing  with  head- 
long speed  and  godless  absorption,  but  a 
steady  man  of  business,  undertaking  things 
in  a  square  and  natural  wa}7;  in  no  fever  of 
hurry,  and  yet  "not  slothful  in  business." 

Ofttimes  he  is  a  "Johnny  Reb."  Perhaps 
in  the  bloom  of  youth  he  followed  the  flag 
of  the  "Lost  Cause,"  and  mostly  as  a  "high 
private,"  but  sometimes  with  rank  still  rec- 
ognized in  his  present  title,  came  out  of 
bloody  war's  alarms.  Oftenerthan  otherwise 
be  bears  upon  his  person  in  more  places  than 
one  the  certificate  of  his  bravery;  and  gen- 
erally in  his  quiet  but  determined  look,  in 
his  modest  yet  gallant  bearing,  his  candid, 
straightforward  talk,  you  discern  the  signs 
of  a  man  who  did  not  linger  behind  when  a 
charge  was  ordered,  or  in  the  hour  of  peril 
skulk  behind  some  base  subterfuge. 

In  not  a  few  instances  he  came  out  of  the 
war  to  confront  utter  poverty;  but  he  took 


28      Recreations  of  a  Presiding  Elder. 


hold  in  good  fashion,  wasted  no  time  in  vain 
regrets,  sold  none  of  the  "grit"  in  him  for 
"  a  mess  of  pottage"  mixed  with  political  dirt, 
and  has  progressed  surprisingly.  The  inher- 
ent recuperative  powers  of  such  a  man  have 
been  displayed.  In  many  cases  he  is  "well 
to  do"  in  every  respect;  in  no  case  does  he  eat 
"the  bread  of  idleness,"  but  breasts  the  waves 
of  adverse  fortune  with  a  cheerful  courage. 

By  such  men  the  prostrate  work  of  our 
Church  has  been  set  upon  its  legs;  churches 
burned  or  pulled  down  in  war,  or  decayed 
and  forsaken,  have  been  rehabilitated  or  re- 
built; the  preacher  finds  "homes  "  unknown 
to  the  old  ante  helium  itinerant;  Sunday- 
schools  and  other  evangelical  agencies  "blos- 
som as  the  rose."  These  men  make  our  "  New 
Virginia,"  in  the  Methodist  sense.  The 
armed  heel  of  Mars  trampled  the  life  out  of 
the  Old  Virginia  in  many  places,  but  the  new 
crop  is  in  full  vigor. 

Our  average  layman  is  a  capital  listener  to 
the  gospel;  he  is  hardly  ever  a  sleepy-head. 
Generally  he  has  the  Advocate  in  his  house; 
where  he  has  it  not  he  is  an  inferior  specimen 
of  his  order.    Purity,  true  politeness — unaf- 


The  Layman  of  To-day. 


29 


fected  and  unstrained;  genuine  hospitality — 
free  and  overflowing,  reign  in  his  household. 
The  children  are  good,  affectionate,  frequent- 
ly very  bright  boys  and  girls;  they  know 
how  to  work,  and  are  not  ashamed  to  do  it; 
they  go  to  school  too,  and  Venable's  Arith- 
metic and  Gildersleeve's  or  Bingham's  Latin 
books  are  there  on  the  table,  bound  with  that 
leather  strap. 

There  are  not  many  doctors,  lawyers,  judg- 
es, and  great  landed  proprietors  of  the  old 
wealthy  class,  in  our  communion.  Being*  in 
Georgia  some  years  ago,  I  was  amazed  to 
meet  frequently  judges  who  were  Methodists. 
Such  do  not  commonly  grow  up  here.  The 
lawyers,  as  a  class,  are  Presbyterians  or  Epis- 
copalians. We  have  a  moderate  share  of  the 
sons  of  Esculapius — the  mass  of  that  profes- 
sion, alas!  know  little  of  the  "Physician  of 
souls." 

But  we  have  a  powerful  body  in  the  com- 
munity in  our  yeomanry.  As  I  looked  at 
Brother  Crooks'  projected  "Map  of  the  Con- 
ference," and  saw  the  thickly-strewn  church- 
es of  our  denomination  planted  in  every 
neighborhood,  I  said  to  myself — thinking  of 


30      Recreations  of  a  Presiding  Elder. 


the  day  when  Methodism  met  in  Conference 
at  "Ellis's"  and  "Lane's,"  in  Revolutionary 
Virginia— "What  hath  God  wrought!" 

Behold  the  building  material,  the  "living 
stones  "  of  our  house  !  It  is  "  a  holy  temple 
unto  the  Lord,''  not  to  be  despised.  We 
expect  to  make  it  far  lovelier,  more  polished, 
more  beautiful,  more  capacious.  Meanwhile 
we  "  thank  God,  and  take  courage."  We  are 
in  no  danger  of  disintegration  or  extinction; 
we  trust  that  our  ministry  and  membership 
carry  "the  life  of  God"  with  them;  we  will 
get  rid  of  the  things  that  "offend."  "Ev- 
ery branch  in  me  that  beareth  not  fruit  He 
taketh  away."  But  all  over  the  land  we  see 
these  healthful  trees  of  the  planting  of  the 
Most  High.  The  great  Husbandman  will 
"prune"  them  "that  they  may  bear  more 
fruit." 


Earth-worms. 


31 


No.  6. 

EARTH-WORMS. 

OR  pleasant  and  profitable  occupa- 
tion of  many  of  my  hours  in  travel 
and  waiting,  on  rainy  days  and  in 
accidental  leisure,  I  have  been  indebted  to 
the  English  Quarterly  Reviews — favorites  from 
boyhood.  I  always  find  a  few  articles  in 
each  that  are  worth  the  price  of  the  Reviews 
for  a  year.  Occasionally  one  will  do  a  man's 
reading  for  him  on  a  special  subject,  glean- 
ing the  grain  of  many  elaborate  works,  put- 
ting in  short  compass  information  from  many 
sources  ordinarily  inaccessible  to  the  common 
reader.  They  are  suggestive,  stimulating  to 
independent  thought  in  a  high  degree,  and 
furnish  in  the  course  of  a  year  many  valua- 
ble illustrations  to  a  preacher. 

This  week  they  have  interested  me  in  some 
departments  of  natural  history,  into  which 
I  am  disposed  to  ask  the  readers  of  the  Ad- 
vocate to  follow  me  a  little  way. 

In  the  January  number  of  the  old  London 
Quarterly  —  founded  by  Gifford  seventy- six 


32      'Recreations  of  a  Presiding  Elder. 


years  ago — there  is  a  review  of  the  remark- 
able work  of  Mr.  Charles  Darwin  on  "Earth 
worms."  The  veteran  naturalist,  at  over 
seventy  years  of  age,  gives  his  latest  publi- 
cation to  this  subject — the  result  of  long- 
continued  and  sharp  observations  made  by 
himself  and  sons. 

Few  of  us  who  have  been  concerned  with 
earth-worms  chiefly  as  bait  for  fishing  when 
wTe  were  boys,  or  as  food  for  young  birds,  as 
we  have  on  a  damp  morning  in  spring 
watched  the  robins  and  sparrows  pulling 
them  out  of  the  ground,  have  imagined  that 
they  were  playing  an  important  part  in  nat- 
ure's economy;  but  it  would  seem  that  He 
who  chooses  the  base  things  of  the  world  to 
confound  the  mighty  has  assigned  a  grand 
task  to  these  obscure  and  lowly  organized 
creatures.  The}7  are  the  little  plowers  of 
the  earth,  engaged  in  the  production  of  that 
vegetable  mold  which  constitutes  the  culti- 
vable land  of  the  entire  earth.  Thoroughly 
breaking  up  the  upper  layers  (their  burrows 
being  three  and  four,  and  sometimes  seven 
or  eight  feet  deep),  undermining  and  sinking 
pebbles  and  other  objects  lying  upon  the 


Earth-worms. 


33 


surface;  eating,  digesting,  and  voiding  de- 
cayed vegetable  matter,  they  bring  to  the  top 
of  the  ground  a  finely-ground  earthy  matter 
which  is  gradually  distributed  by  various 
agencies  over  the  whole  face  of  the  ground. 

Nothing  can  exceed  the  regularity  of  their 
industry.  Ants  and  bees,  heretofore  regard- 
ed as  monopolists  of  that  high  virtue,  must 
stand  aside  in  comparison.  Nothing  but  the 
coral  insect,  that  magnificent  architect  of 
the  tropical  seas,  can  be  mentioned  in  respect 
of  the  extent  and  solidity  of  work;  and  he, 
like  many  showy  workers,  does  great  things 
in  a  region  where  they  are  out  of  the  reach 
of  the  great  mass  of  mankind,  and  which 
serve  rather  as  curiosities  than  as  useful  prod- 
ucts. 

I  give  some  extracts  from  this  [taper,  as 
the  subject  will  be  new,  and  I  think  interest- 
ing, to  many  readers  of  the  Advocate. 

As  to  the  amount  of  work  done  by  the 
worms,  "Mr.  Darwin  quotes  a  German  au- 
thority for  an  estimate  that  53,767  worms 
exist  in  an  acre  of  land;  but  this  estimate 
was  founded  on  the  number  found  in  gardens, 
and  the  same  authority  believes  that  about 
o 


34      Recreations  of  a  Presiding  Elder. 


half  as  many  live  in  corn-fields.  In  short,  there 
seems  good  evidence  that  on  each  acre  of 
land  adapted  to  the  work  of  worms  a  weight 
of  more  than  ten  tons  of  earth  annually  passes 
through  their  bodies,  and  is  brought  to  the 
surface.  In  England  and  Scotland  the  land 
which  is  cultivated  and  is  well  fitted  for  these 
animals  has  been  estimated  at  32,000,000 
acres.  The  astonishing  but  inevitable  con- 
clusion is,  that  in  Great  Britain  alone  no  less 
an  amount  of  earth  than  320,000,000  tons  is 
annually  brought  by  worms  from  under- 
ground to  the  surface  of  the  earth.  Well 
may  Mr.  Darwin  lay  stress  on  such  an  illus- 
tration of  the  enormous  effects  which  may  be 
produced  by  continually  recurrent  causes, 
however  small." 

Some  interesting  observations  are  narrated 
by  Mr.  Darwin  of  their  labors  in  carrying 
underneath  to  the  depth  of  two  and  a  half  or 
three  inches  in  thirty  years  all  the  stones  of 
afield,  some  of  them  half  as  large  as  a  child's 
head. 

Read  the  following  to  learn  that  there  is 
vastly  more  in  an  earth-worm  than  is  "  dreamt 
of  in  your  philosophy."    These  are  revela- 


Earth-worms. 


35 


tions  partly  due  to  the  microscope:  uThe 
structure  of  these  obscure  creatures  is  far 
more  complicated  than  would  be  supposed 
by  any  one  but  a  naturalist.  The  body  of  a 
large  worm  consists,  we  are  told,  of  from  one 
hundred  to  two  hundred  almost  cylindrical 
rings  or  segments,  each  furnished  with  mi- 
nute bristles,  and  the  muscular  system  is  well 
developed.  The  mouth,  which  is  at  one  end 
of  the  body,  has  a  little  lip  for  prehension. 
Behind  it  is  a'pharynx,  which  can  be  pushed 
forward  at  pleasure,  and  which  worms  expand 
for  the  purpose  of  enlarging  their  holes  as 
they  burrow  into  the  ground.  Behind  this  is  a 
long  esophagus,  in  which  there  are  three  pairs 
of  large  glands,  which  Mr.  Darwin  says  are 
'highly  remarkable,  for  nothing  like  them  is 
known  in  any  other  animal.'  They  secrete  a 
surprising  amount  of  carbonate  of  lime,  and  al- 
though their  use  is  not  certain,  *  it  is  probable 
that  they  primarily  serve  as  organs  of  excre- 
tion, and  secondarily  as  an  aid  to  digestion.' 
Worms  consume  many  fallen  leaves,  and 
these  have  been  sometimes  known  to  contain 
as  much  as  seventy-two  per  cent,  of  lime. 
Unless,  therefore,  there  were  some  means  for 


36      Recreations  of  a  Presiding  Elder. 


excreting  this,  earth-worms  would  be  liable 
to  become  overcharged  with  it.  Accordingly 
large  concretions  of  carbonate  of  lime  are 
found  in  these  glands,  so  large  that  'how 
they  escape  from  the  gland  is  a  marvel;'  but 
that  they  do  escape  is  certain,  for  they  are 
often  found  in  the  gizzard,  and  intestines, 
and  in  the  castings  of  worms.  .  .  .  The 
esophagus  ends  in  a  crop,  and  behind  this  is 
a  gizzard,  in  which  grains  of  sand  and  small 
stones  may  generally  be  found;  and  it  is 
probable  that  these  serve  like  mill-stones  to 
triturate  the  food.  The  gizzard  leads  to  the 
intestine,  which  runs  in  a  straight  course  to 
the  posterior  end  of  the  body,  and  this  intes- 
tine again  presents  a  remarkable  structure. 
The  circulatory  system  and  the  nervous  sys- 
tem are  both  fairly  well  developed.  Worms 
possess  no  respiratory  organs,  but  breathe  by 
their  skin.  They  are  destitute  of  eyes,  but 
are  not  insensible  to  light,  which  affects  them 
partly  by  its  intensity  and  partly  by  its  du- 
ration; and  when  a  certain  blaze  of  light  is 
directed  upon  a  worm  it  will  sometimes  dart 
like  a  rabbit  into  its  burrow.  They  are  thus 
enabled  to  distinguish  between  day  and  night, 


Earth- worms. 


37 


so  as  to  escape  danger  from  the  many  animals 
which  would  prey  upon  them  by  day.  They 
possess  no  sense  of  hearing;  and  when  placed 
on  a  table  close  to  the  keys  of  a  piano,  which 
was  played  as  loudly  as  possible,  they  re- 
mained perfectly  quiet.  .  .  .  Indeed,  of  all 
their  senses,  that  of  touch  seems  the  most 
highly  developed.  .  .  .  Their  sense  of  smell 
is  feeble,  but  they  seem  to  be  able  to  discover 
by  means  of  it  strong-smelling  food,  of  which 
they  are  fond,  such  as  onions  and  decayed 
cabbage-leaves.  In  respect  of  food,  however, 
they  are  omnivorous.  Their  importance  in 
the  economy  of  nature  depends  mainly  upon 
the  fact  that  they  swallow  an  extraordinary 
quantity  of  earth,  extracting  from  it  any  di- 
gestible matter  which  it  may  contain.  They 
also  consume  a  large  quantity  of  half-decayed 
leaves  of  all  kinds,  and  fresh  leaves  also. 
They  will  eat  sugar  and  liquorice,  dry  starch, 
raw  and  roasted  meats,  and  above  all  raw  fat. 
They  are,  moreover,  cannibals,  for  Mr.  Dar- 
win found  that  two  halves  of  a  dead  worm 
placed  in  their  pots  were  dragged  into  their 
burrows  and  gnawed." 

The  reviewer  is  no  disciple  of  Darwin  in 


38      Recreations  of  a  Presiding  Elder. 


the  doctrine  of  Evolution.  Giving  all  praise 
to  the  great  naturalist  for  his  masterly  qual- 
ities and  attainments  as  a  scientific  man,  he 
refuses  to  admit  the  truth  of  the  speculative 
views  suggested  by  Mr.  Darwin's  imagina- 
tion. He  says:  "  We  still  remain  convinced 
of  the  preniatureness,  to  say  no  more,  ot 
what  is  commonly,  whether  with  strict  jus- 
tice or  not,  styled  the  Darwinian  theory  of 
Evolution."  And  at  the  close  of  his  article 
he  turns  Darwin's  own  guns  against  him  in 
clever  style,  as  follows: 

"We  cannot  but  conclude  with  one  sug- 
gestion, which  seems  naturally  to  arise  out 
of  such  a  wonderful  narrative.  Is  the  ac- 
complishment of  such  enormous  results  by 
an  agency  so  insignificant,  but  at  the  same 
time  so  exactly  adapted  to  the  work  to  be 
done,  explicable  on  any  other  supposition 
than  that  of  positive  design?  It  is  observa- 
ble that  in  this  book  we  do  not  find  any  sug- 
gestion of  the  influences  by  which  so  singular 
an  agency  can  have  been  evolved  by  natural 
selection.  These  infinitely  numerous  little 
plows  seem  to  be  expressly  provided  to 
prepare  the  earth  for  the  sustentation  of 


Earth-worms. 


39 


plants  and  of  other  animal  life,  and  for  no 
other  purpose  whatever.  We  can  remember 
no  more  vivid  illustration  of  the  old  argu- 
ment which  infers  from  the  perfect  adaptation 
of  means  to  ends  the  action  throughout  nat- 
ure of  a  Divine  wisdom  and  will." 

That  "old  argument"  is  as  strong  as  ever. 
In  fact,  the  more  observations  "in  heaven 
and  earth"  are  collected  by  naturalists  and 
scientists  of  the  infidel  school,  the  better  for 
the  theistic  doctrine.  These  men  "  build  bet- 
ter than  they  know."  Their  works  of  careful 
study  and  patient  observation  will  be  mate- 
rial for  illustrations  of  the  Divine  wisdom 
and  goodness  which  will  be  ever  fresh. 


40      Recreations  of  a  Presiding  Elder. 


No.  7. 

DEEP-SEA  FISHES. 
AM  done  with  earth-worms,  but 
not  with  natural  history. 
"The  earth  is  full  of  thy  riches," 
says  the  psalmist;  but  he  adds,  "So  also  is 
this  great  and  wide  sea,  wherein  are  things 
creeping  innumerable,  both  small  and  great 
beasts."  I  am  (thanks  to  the  Quarterly)  go- 
ing to  reveal  to  my  readers  some  of  these 
marine  wonders. 

I  have  always  been  fond  of  fishing  and 
fishes.  Many  a  pleasant  hour  of  recreation 
have  I  had  in  that  way.  In  the  vast,  lonely, 
wild  mountains,  along  the  banks  lined  with 
kalmia  and  rhododendron  ("ivy;'  and  "lau- 
rel"), among  rocks  of  fantastic  shapes  and 
huge  proportions,  covered  with  moss  and 
ferns  of  such  greenness  and  loveliness  as  are 
unknown  in  other  more  accessible  places, 
here  and  there  coming  on  a  wild  flower  of 
some  unusual  species,  I  have  fished  for  the 
brook  trout  in  pools  of  surpassing  brightness 
and  beauty,  glassy  and  cool,  of  crystal-like 


Deep-sea  Fishes. 


41 


clearness  and  purity.  Or,  in  boats  dug  out 
of  the  bulky  cypress  log,  I  have  glided  over 
the  somewhat  darkened  but  still  polished 
waters  of  a  mill-pond  in  the  lowlands,  and 
anchored  to  a  submerged  stump  or  fallen 
trunk  of  a  tree,  have  drawn  out  perch,  pike, 
and  green  bass  ("chub")  from  the  teeming 
waters.  If  quantity  and  activity  of  biting 
be  on  the  side  of  the  deep  lowland  waters, 
ornamented  with  the  pond-lily  and  shaded 
by  the  graceful  cypress,  the  crystal  sheen  of 
the  waters,  the  brilliant  colors  and  shyness 
of  the  fish,  the  wild  beauty  and  magnificence 
of  the  scenery,  and  above  all  the  purity  of 
the  air  and  the  delightfulness  of  the  temper- 
ature, are  on  the  side  of  the  "everlasting 
hills"  and  the  "  springs"  which  "  run  among" 
them.  No  deadly  "chill"  lurks  in  their 
glorious  glens;  the  thirsty  fisher  can  kneel 
down  and  "drink  out  of  the  branch"  as  of 
a  fountain  of  nectar;  and  he  will  see  only 
one  rattlesnake  now  and  then,  for  a  hun- 
dred water-moccasins  in  the  low  country. 
Nevertheless,  each  region  has  its  peculiar 
charms  and  attractions,  and  I  have  re- 
sponded in  both  to  the  Peter-like  remark, 


42      Recreations  of  a  Presiding  Elder. 


"T  go  a-fishing,"  with  a  cheerful  "I  also  go 
with  thee." 

But  I  have  never  fished  in  the  sea.  That 
is  an  enjoyment  yet  to  come.  Of  "hand- 
lines"  I  know  nothing,  and  have  never 
caught  drum  or  sheep's-head  or  blue-fish. 
Many  of  the  "riches"  of  the  Lord  in  "this 
great  and  wide  sea"  I  have  seen  ;  but  neither 
I  nor- most  of  my  readers,  I  suppose,  have 
before  heard  of  what  I  am  going  to  glean 
from  the  Quarterly's  pages. 

The  late  Commodore  Maury  devotes  a  part 
of  his  work  on  the  "Physical  Geography  of 
the  Sea"  to  the  great  "telegraphic  plateau" 
which  he  first  pointed  out  as  stretching  along 
the  bottom  of  the  ocean  from  Newfoundland 
to  Ireland  at  a  great  depth,  but  not  too  deep 
to  admit  the  laying  of  a  cable  upon  it.  Be- 
sides the  excellence  of  its  freedom  from  agi- 
tation, he  recommended  it  as  free  from  both 
vegetable  and  animal  life.  Nothing  would 
be  down  there,  neither  "  small  [nor]  great 
beasts  "  to  disturb  or  root  up  the  cable.  "  We 
have  now,"  said  he,  "had  specimens  from 
the  bottom  of  'blue  water'  in  the  narrow 
Coral  Sea,  the  broad  Pacific,  and  the  long 


Deep-sea  Fishes. 


43 


Atlantic,  and  they  all  tell  the  same  story, 
namely,  that  the  hed  of  the  ocean  is  a  vast 
cemetery."  And  again:  "Where  there  is  a 
nursery,  hard  by  there  will  be  found  also  a 
grave-yard — such  is  the  condition  of  the  ani- 
mal world.  But  it  never  occurred  to  us  before 
to  consider  the  surface  of  the  sea  as  one  wide 
nursery,  its  every  ripple  as  a  cradle,  and  its 
bottom  one  vast  burial-place." 

But  this  has  proved  to  be  probably  a  mis- 
take. Whatever  may  be  true  of  the  actual 
bottom,  later  investigations  have  revealed 
that  the  deep  sea,  at  from  live  hundred  to  eight 
hundred  fathoms  (3,000  to  4,800  feet — nearly 
a  mile!)  of  perpendicular  depths,  where  all 
faint  reflection  of  sunlight  is  unknown,  where 
the  constant  temperature  is  about  thirty-six 
(only  four  above  freezing)  degrees,  where 
vegetation  is  impossible,  is  inhabited,  the 
world  over,  by  a'numerous  family  of  fishes. 

An  article  on  "Fishes  and  Their  Habits" 
gives  highly  interesting  information  con- 
cerning these  wonders  of  the  deep.  Besides 
the  absence  of  the  sunlight  and  the  low  tern- 
perature,  another  circumstance,  supposed  to 
be  fatal  to  any  living  creature  at  such  depths, 


44      Recreations  of  a  Presiding  Elder. 


was  the  increased  pressure  by  the  water. 
"  The  pressure  of  the  atmosphere  on  the  level 
of  theseaamonnts  to  fifteen  pounds  persquare 
inch  of  the  surface  of  the  body  of  an  animal, 
but  the  pressure  amounts  to  a  ton  weight 
for  every  one  thousand  fathoms  of  depth." 
Curiously  enough  this  was  one  of  the  very 
circumstances  which  led  to  the  discovery-  of 
the  existence  of  these  fishes.  Hear  Dr.  Gun- 
ther,  keeper  of  the  Zoological  Department 
in  the  British  Museum: 

"The  knowledge  of  the  existence  of  deep- 
sea  fishes  is  one  of  the  recent  discoveries  of 
ichthyology.  It  is  only  about  twenty  years 
ago  that,  from  the  evidence  afforded  by  the 
anatomical  structure  of  a  few  singular  fishes 
obtained  in  the  xNorth  Atlantic,  an  opinion 
was  expressed  that  these  fishes  inhabited 
great  depths  of  the  ocean,  and  that  their 
organization  was  specially '  adapted  for  liv- 
ing under  the  physical  abyssal  conditions. 
These  fishes  agreed  in  the  character  of  their 
connective  tissue,  which  was  so  extremely 
weak  as  to  yield  to,  and  to  break  under,  the 
the  slightest  pressure,  so  that  the  greatest 
difficulty  is  experienced  in  preserving  their 


.Depp-sea  Flakes. 


45 


body  in  its  continuity.  Another  singular 
circumstance  was  that  some  of  the  specimens 
were  picked  up  floating  on  the  surface  of  the 
water,  having  met  their  death  whilst  engaged 
in  swallowing  or  digesting  another  tish  not 
much  inferior  or  even  superior  in  size  to  them- 
selves. The  first  peculiarity  was  accounted 
for  by  the  fact  that  if  these  fishes  really  in- 
habited the  great  depths  supposed,  their  re- 
moval from  the  enormous  pressure  under 
which  they  lived  would  be  accompanied  by 
such  an  expansion  of  the  gases  within  their 
tissues  as  to  rupture  them  and  to  cause  a  sep- 
aration of  the  parts  which  had  been  held 
together  by  the  pressure.  The  second  cir- 
cumstance was  explained  thus:  A  raptatorial 
lish,  organized  to  live  at  a  depth  of  between 
live  hundred  and  eight  hundred  fathoms,  seizes 
another,  usually  inhabiting  a  depth  of  between 
three  hundred  and  five  hundred  fathoms.  In 
its  struggles  to  escape,  the  fish  seized — nearly 
as  large  or  strong  as  the  attacking  fish — car- 
ries the  latter  out  of  its  depth  into  a  higher 
stratum,  where  the  diminished  pressure  caus- 
es such  an  expansion  of  gases  as  to  make  the 
destroyer,  with  its  victim,  rise  with  increas- 


46      Recreations  of  a  Presiding  Elder. 


ing  rapidity  toward  the  surface,  which  they 
reach  dead  or  in  a  dying  condition." 

Respecting  the  disorganization  of  their 
bodily  tissues  by  the  "expansion  of  the  gas- 
es" within  them,  the  reviewer  says: 

"  Their  bones  and  muscles  are  comparative- 
ly feebly  developed ;  the  former  have  a  'fibrous, 
fissured,  and  cavernous  texture,  are  light, 
with  scarcely  any  calcareous  matter,  so  that 
the  point  of  a  needle  will  readily  penetrate 
them  without  breaking.'  They  are  loosely 
attached  to  each  other — the  vertebras  espe- 
cially: and  unless  carefully  handled,  the  body 
will  almost  fall  to  pieces.  But  that  this  js 
not  the  animal's  normal  condition  we  may 
be  well  assured.  It  is  due  simply  to  the  ab- 
sence of  the  pressure  which  keeps  the  whole 
organization  compact;  for,  as  has  just  been 
stated,  most  of  these  fishes  are  rapacious,  and 
to  indulge  their  voracity  (enormous,  as  we 
shall  presently  see)  they  must  execute  rapid 
and  powerful  movements,  to  effect  which 
their  muscles  must  be  as  firm  and  their  ver- 
tebrae as  taughtly  braced  as  in  their  surface- 
swimmin^  relatives." 

It  is  stated  that  many  of  these  fishes  have 


Deep-sea  Fishes. 


47 


"more  or  less  numerous  round,  shining, 
mother-of-pearl  colored  bodies  imbedded  in 
the  skin;"  "as  'twere  in  scorn  of  eyes,  re- 
flecting gems." 

The  use  of  such  organs  is  not  known. 
They  are  present  in  those  deep-sea  fishes 
which  have  "well-developed  and  even  large 
eyes  perfectly  adapted  for  seeing  in  the  dark," 
and  also  absent  in  others  which  have  no  ex- 
ternal eyes.  They  are  therefore  hardly  "ac- 
cessory eyes."  They  may  be  "producers  of 
light" — phosphorescent  or  otherwise  —  "in 
which  case  it  must  proceed  from  the  inner 
cavity,  and  be  emitted  through  the  lens-like 
body  as  through  a  'bull's-eye'  lantern." 

They  "display  few  colors  [except  one  or 
two  species],  and  gay  tints  would  indeed  be 
useless  amid  'the  gloom  of  Tartarus  pro- 
found.' Their  body  is  generally  either  black 
or  silvery,  but  the  silverness  has  a  most  brill- 
iant sheen,  which  is  preserved  even  after 
years  of  immersion  in  spirit.  A  few  are 
'picked  out/  as  a  coach-painter  might  say, 
with  bright  scarlet,  either  on  the  fin-rays  or 
the  filaments  attached  thereto." 

Of  their  voracity  this  well-nigh  incredible 


48      Recreations  of  a  Presiding  Elder. 


account  is  given  :  "Another  remarkable 
property  of  some  of  these  creatures — 'that 
woo  the  slimy  bottom  of  the  deep  ' — is  a  stom- 
ach so  capable  of  distension  that  it  can  hold 
a  prey  of  twice  or  thrice  the  bulk  of  the  de- 
stroyer! Figures  of  two  of  these  are  given  by 
Dr.  Gunther.  .  .  .  Even  with  such  a  meal 
they  are  not  always  content,  for  though  a  fish 
seven  inches  and  a  half  long  was  found  in 
the  latter  specimen — itself  not  four  inches  in 
length — yet  we  are  told  it  was  tempted  to  take 
a  bait.'  One  of  the  earliest  recorded  in- 
stances of  this  voracity  was  observed  by  Mr. 
Johnson,  who  wrote  as  follows  of  a  specimen 
(of  another  and  very  rare  species,  however) 
he  procured  at  Madeira,  which  had  been 
found  floating  on  the  surface: 

The  man  from  whom  I  obtained  it  stated 
that  he  had  a  fish  with  two  heads,  two  mouths, 
four  eyes,  and  a  tail  growing  out  of  the  mid- 
dle of  the  back,  which  had  astonished  the 
whole  market;  and  the  fishermen  one  and  all 
declared  that  they  had  never  met  with  any 
thing  like  it  before.  At  first  sight  it  really 
did  appear  to  be  the  monster  described,  but 
a  short  examination  brought  to  light  the  fact 


Deep-sea  Fishes. 


49 


that  one  fish  had  been  swallowed  by  another, 
and  that  the  features  of  the  former  were 
seen  through  the  thin,  extensible  skin  of  the 
latter.  On  extracting  the  fish  that  had  been 
swallowed,  it  proved  to  have  a  diameter  sev- 
eral times  exceeding  that  of  its  enemy,  whose 
stomach  it  had  distended  to  an  unnatural 
and  painful  degree.'" 

This  process  of  "swallowing"  is  precisely 
like  that  by  which  one  snake  swallows  an- 
other as  large  as  himself.  I  have  seen  a 
king-snake  with  the  half-swallowed  body  of 
a  moccasin  in  his  jaws,  which  was  both  long- 
er and  larger  than  himself. 

As  the  reviewer  well  remarks:  "Even  the 
unscientific  imagination  cannot  fail  to  be 
aroused  at  the  thought  of  the  dark,  cold,  and 
still  depths  of  the  sea,  lit  up  only  here  and 
there  by  the  fitful  gleams  of  their  phospho- 
rescent inhabitants,  which  must  serve  but  to 
render  the  mysterious  gloom  more  horrid — a 
gelid,  watery  Erebus,  peopled  by  submarine 
furies  as  fierce  as  those  that  tenanted  the 
subterranean  realms  of  classic  mythology. 
"What  a  contrast  to  the  poet's  vision  of  ocean 
grottoes  'under  the  glassy,  cool,  translucent 
4 


50      Recreations  of  a  Presiding  Elder. 


wave,'  haunted  by  graceful  nereids  'sleeking 
their  soft,  alluring  locks!"' 

I  cannot  occupy  more  of  the  Advocate's 
space,  or  I  might  tell  of  the  "fighting-fish" 
of  Siam,  the  "climbing  perch"  of  the  East 
Indies,  and  the  group  of  Silurii  from  rivers 
of  tropical  America  flowing  into  the  At- 
lantic, which  travel  "during  the  dry  season 
from  a  piece  of  water  about  to  dry  up,  in 
quest  of  a  pond  of  greater  capacity,"  spend- 
ing sometimes  whole  nights  on  dry  land  on 
the  wray. 

But  I  am  almost  afraid  to  have  said  this 
much  about  them.  Some  of  "  Uncle  Larry's  " 
flock  may  have  spontaneously  exclaimed, 
"What  a  whopper!" 


V 


Two  Deaths. 


51 


No.  8. 

TWO  DEATHS. 

musings  this  morning  are  of  a 
melancholy  sort.  Death  has  been 
speaking  to  my  heart.  He  is  a 
faithful  monitor,  an  unlovely  but  a  truthful, 
unfaltering  guest,  who  will  not  suffer  us  to 
forget  that  we  are  children  of  a  day.  To- 
day he  has  broken  the  tie  which  held  in  life 
a  lovely  young  friend,  and  uttered  a  pathetic 
sermon  on  the  vanity  of  human  hopes  and 
the  emptiness  of  worldly  good. 

This  is  the  second  voice  of  the  gloonrv 
preacher.  Two  months  ago  he  "hurried 
hence"  a  very  dear  friend  of  ours,  a  bright 
and  faithful  young  wife,  true  and  warm-heart- 
ed, with  love  like  diamond  and  fidelity  like 
steel ;  unchanging  amid  all  outward  varia- 
tions. From  her  beautiful  home,  adorned 
by  her  graceful  and  cordial  hospitality;  from 
the  clinging  arms  and  prayers  of  those  dear 
ones  to  whom  she  was  more  than  vital  air; 
from  the  prospects  of  happiness  and  useful- 
ness opening  so  fairly  before  her,  he  called 


52      Recreations  of  a  Presiding  Elder. 

her  away;  and  our  heavy  hearts  lay  in  sack- 
cloth and  ashes.  Thanks  he  to  God!  the 
consolations  of  the  gospel  were  abundant. 

And  now  the  dark,  chilly  presence  is  among 
us  again;  not  unexpected;  hut  who  is  ever 
wholly  prepared?  If  human  society  ever 
gives  a  lovely  victim,  the  grim  destroyer  has 
had  such  this  time.  Beautiful  in  person,  fas- 
cinating in  manner,  of  marked  intellectual- 
ity, polished  and  fitted  to  shine  anywhere, 
with  devoted  kindred,  hosts  of  friends,  an 
iijviting  earthly  future — she  whose  absence 
makes  many  a  heart  ache,  and  leaves  a  va- 
cancy never  to  be  filled,  is  "beyond  the  sun." 
Yes,  even  yesterday,  lingering  as  for  many 
months,  so  patiently  sweet,  so  unmurmuring, 
so  submissive,  with  soul  so  cloudless  and  se- 
rene, so  thoughtful  and  attentive,  even  with 
vitality  worn  to  a  thread,  yet  so  truly  here, 
and  among  us,  and  of  us — to-day  gone  never 
to  be  recalled,  forever  out  of  our  mortal  reach. 
Only  the  worn  frame,  lovely  in  death,  its 
tenant  fled  to  celestial  felicity,  left  to  gaze 
upon  a  moment,  then  reverently  and  tenderly 
lay  "ashes  to  ashes"  in  the  family  burial- 
place.    Ah!  "who  could  bear  life's  stormy 


Two  Deaths. 


53 


doom"  when  thus  it  comes  were  it  not  for 
"the  grace  of  God  that  bringeth  salvation," 
which  has  "brought  life  and  immortality  to 
light?"  Blessed  hope  of  eternal  day  and 
imperishable  good!  I  shall  see  these  dear 
young  friends  again.  Unnaturally  as  it 
would  seem,  the  bright,  freshly  -  trimmed 
light  of  their  lives  has  gone  out,  while  mine 
yet  flickers  and  holds  out,  with  oil  three- 
fourths  gone  and  growing  steadily  dimmer 
at  best.  But  erelong,  as  I  fondly  hope,  we 
shall  stand  together  before  the  blaze  of  "the 
uncreated  sun  in  the  eternal  heaven."  In 
the  home  of  light  and  life  there  is  "no  dark- 
ness at  all/'  of  death,  or  sin,  or  sorrow. 

Some  weeks  ago  I  wandered  into  an  old 
grave-yard  long  un visited,  where  sleep  the 
bodies  of  a  number  of  our  ministers.  My 
classmate,  who  was  a  brother  so  gentle,  so 
Keats-like  in  genius  and  tenderness,  advanc- 
ing so  swiftly  along  the  path  of  fame,  but 
with  still  swifter  steps  ascending  the  steeps 
of  spirituality  and  immortality,  rests  in  its 
sheltering  fold.  There  too  lies  the  old,  fa- 
therly, warm-hearted  Irishman,  at  whose 
board  I  long  had  a  seat;  and  there  the  chiv- 


54      Recreations  of  a  Presiding  Elder. 


alric,  polished,  impulsive  saint,  buoyant,  full 
of  faith  and  love,  who  formed  part  of  our 
home-circle  for  several  years.  They  seemed 
to  gather  round  me  again,  to  rise  and  look  at 
me  with  the  ancient  kindness  and  hearty 
welcome  of  the  "days  that  are  no  more;" 
and  with  them  came,'  by  the  associations 
which  their  names  on  the  grave-stones  awak- 
ened, two  wives  of  preachers;  and  I  went 
back  over  nearly  a  fourth  of  a  century  to  the 
triumphant  death-bed  of  one  of  them,  by 
which  I  and  my  old  Irish  brother  stood,  wit- 
nessing "dying  grace"  rarely  given;  for 
hers  had  been  a  "living  grace "  almost  as 
rare.  And  all  around  me  wras  flowery  and 
sweet,  green  with  the  advancing  color  of  a 
late  spring.  I  like  to  go  to  cemeteries  in 
spring.  Let  all  around  be  symbolic  and  pro- 
phetic of  the  resurrection.  "Thy  brother," 
thy  sister,  thy  loved  ones,  "  shall  rise  again." 
Unspeakably  precious  words!  I  pity  indeed 
the  wretch  who  buries  his  dead  without  hope 
of  resurrection  and  another  life.  In  hope  of 
such  a  resurrection,  and  of  "the  life  which 
knows  no  ending  —  the  tearless  life"  —  we 
have  been  burying  our  dead,  the  faithful, 


Two  Deaths. 


55 


worn-out  servants  of  Christ,  like  our  dear 
old  Dr.  Lee,  and  the  lovely  young  people 
tenderly  bound  to  us  by  ties  of  sweet  associ- 
ations, upon  whose  soft  cheek  the  rosy  light 
of  youth  has  so  sadly  decayed.  And  from 
such  burials  I  can  go  to  preach  with  a  more 
fervent  spirit,  "Jesus  and  the  resurrection." 


56      Recreations  of  a  Presiding  Elder. 


No.  9. 

THE  GENERAL  CONFERENCE 

OF  1882. 

HAVE  saluted  on  their  return  the 
brethren  of  my  district,  clerical  and 
lay,  who  were  delegates  to  the  re- 
cent General  Conference.  They  look  well, 
are  in  good  health,  well  pleased,  and  bearing 
every  mark  of  having  been  well  treated.  The 
splendid  region  of  Middle  Tennessee  has  done 
them  good.  Those  of  them  who  were  used 
to  the  short  grass  of  "the  fourth  district" 
have  been  wonderfully  refreshed  by  grazing 
upon  the  blue-grass  pastures  of  that  fine 
country,  and  all  hav«e  basked  in  the  sunshine 
of  the  University  of  Vanderbilt  and  the  head- 
quarters of  Southern  Methodism.  Those 
"head-quarters,"  it  seems,  are  not  like  those 
of  General  Pope — "in  the  saddle" — but  in  a 
certain  "House,"  which  has  had  great  muta- 
tions of  fortune.  But  so  it  is,  there  it  stands, 
upon  the  camel's  hump,  rather  more  settled 
and  solidly  anchored  than  since  the  war,  and, 
for  good  or  evil,  it  is  head-quarters.  Our 


General  Conference. 


57 


brethren  have  walked  around  that  bulwark 
of  our  Methodist  Zion,  and  told  its  towers. 
One  of  our  delegates  (not  of  my  district)  had 
special  charge  of  its  affairs,  and  gives  a  cheer- 
ful view  of  its  present  condition  and  future 
prospects. 

But  whatever  may  be  true  of  the  "head- 
quarters" aforesaid,  there  is  no  doubt  of  the 
welfare  of  our  explorers  who  have  journeyed 
thither.  They  are  buoyant,  in  good  temper 
with  "the  world  and  the  rest  of  mankind." 

My  own  impression  is  that  this  General 
Conference  of  1882  was,  as  a  whole,  a  suc- 
cess. They  have  made  good  selections  for 
the  episcopal  bench,  some  of  them  capital,  all. 
of  them  very  good.  They  might  have  done 
five  hundred  times  worse,  and  doubtless  did 
not  lack  for  temptation.  Many  Barkises 
were  "willing,"  while  one  man  elect  declined, 
and  another  is  said  to  have  shrunk  with  a 
whole  night's  struggle.  God  bless  and 
strengthen  that  self-distrusting,  reluctant 
brother!  Make  him  a  real  blessing  to  the 
Church  by  givinghim  grace  to  be  "  sufficient" 
for  those  "things"  in  contemplation  of 
which  any  man  may  tremble  !    We  are  sorry 


58      Recreations  of  a  Presiding  Elder. 


to  have  Dr.  Hay  good  come  up  missing,  but 
we  will  wait  for  him  four  or  eight  years— 
thankfully  take  four  where  we  would  have 
liked  to  have  six — and  gladly  excuse  those 
who  were  anxious  to  wear  the  miter,  and  who 
vvould  have  been  "perfectly  delighted"  to 
have  gone  up,  in  the  ballotings  among  the 
hundreds. 

Wilson  and  Granbery,  Parker  and  Har- 
grove— good  men  and  true,  strong,  fresh,  and 
reliable;  they  are  a  transfusion  of  younger 
blood  into  the  rather  sickly  body  of  the  epis- 
copacy. We  predict  for  them  spiritual  vic- 
tories and  great  usefulness. 

No  marked  legislation  seems  to  have  char- 
acterized this  session.  The  laity  especially 
are  very  conservative,  and  not  "given  to 
change."  Beyond  the  Church  -  extension 
movement— in  which  we  trust  there  is  much 
possible  good,  and  the  more  definite  and  pro- 
nounced temperance  statute,  there  is  little 
alteration  of  the  Discipline.  As  usual,  a 
thousand  things  were  proposed,  a  multitude 
of  absurdities,  a  grain  of  wheat  here  and 
there  in  a  bushel  of  chaff. 

I  still  believe,  as  I  have  always  believed, 


General  Conference. 


59 


that  one  of  the  evils  of  our  General  Confer- 
ence sessions,  a  great  cause  of  useless  con- 
sumption of  time,  a  door  of  mischief  and 
foolishness,  is  the  "call  of  the  Conferences" 
daily  for  so  many  days  for  "resolutions,"  etc. 
This  "mud  volcano"  ought  never  to  be 
opened  at  all.  Memorials  of  Annual  Confer- 
ences should  be  read  and  referred,  but  oth- 
er propositions  ought  to  go  to  a  "tomb  of 
the  Capulets,"  where  a  committee  of  sextons 
should  quietly  decide  whether  the  thing  pro- 
posed be  worthy  of  resurrection  by  a  refer- 
ence, and  if  so,  put  it  "in  the  Daily,  with  the 
name  of  the  committee  to  which  referred, 
and  hand  it  to  the  chairman.  A  vote  of  two- 
thirds  might  be  allowed  to  bring  up  a  matter 
for  consideration  without  reference  to  com- 
mittee, and  no  debate  be  permitted  on  such 
a  motion.  Then  only  a  very  important  mat- 
ter— so  important  on  its  face — would  receive 
such  distinguished  notice.  One  or  two  hours 
per  diem  consumed  by  reading  and  referring 
stuff,  is  time  greatly  in  excess  of  what  a  body 
can  spare  in  a  twenty-five  days'  session,  in 
wThich  all  the  interests  and  work  of  the 
Church  for  four  years  are  to  be  reviewed, 


60      Recreations  of  a  Presiding  Elder. 


and  its  wants  for  four  years  more  consid- 
ered. 

I  trust  that  the  next  session,  at  Richmond, 
in  1886,  will  have  a  well-matured  set  of  rules, 
which  will  prune  off  this  excrescence  upon 
our  organization,  long  endured  in  pain. 

I  gladly  note  some  improvement  in  the 
reports  concerning  Annual  Conference  Jour- 
nals, coming  from  the  Committee  on  Itin- 
erancy. With  its  miserable  faultiness  (was 
there  ever  a  poorer  thing  of  its  kind?)  the 
Daily  has  hardly  given  us  half  of  those 
reports.  I  can  count  up  reports  of  only 
twenty-four  out  of  thirty-nine  Conferences. 
Our  own  and  the  Baltimore  are  among  the 
missing.  " Report  hath  it"  that  "the  old 
Baltimore,"  supposed  to  have  an  infallible 
secretary,  and  which  furnished  the  two  chair- 
men of  the  committee  (Martin  and  Rodgers), 
got  a  good  switching  this  time  about  its 
Journal.  The  rest  of  us  who  have  been 
quadrennially  "birched"  can  enjoy  this  cas- 
tigation  over  trivialities,  while  believing,  as 
heretofore,  that  in  all  that  constitutes  the 
real  value  of  a  secretary,  there  is  no  amend- 
ment or  change  needed  in  Baltimore.  The 


General  Conference. 


61 


feature  of  improvement  I  speak  of  is  that 
there  is  less  of  the  trivial  and  hypercritical 
in  the  notices  of  the  Annual  Conference 
Journals. 

I  believe,  for  my  part,  that  there  has  al- 
ways been  an  error  on  this  subject  in  the 
work  of  the  Committee  on  Itinerancy.  The 
law  requiring  the  Journals  of  the  Annual 
Conferences  to  be  sent  to  the  General  Con- 
ference for  inspection  was  manifestly  de- 
signed simply  to  bring  under  review  at  the 
General  Conference  the  administration  of  the 
laws  by  the  Annual  Conferences;  which  are 
ministerial,  not  legislative  bodies.  It  never 
was  originally  intended,  I  am  bold  to  assert, 
that  the  manner  of  keeping  the  records 
should  be  the  chief  subject  of  review.  It  is 
the  business  of  the  Annual  Conferences,  pre- 
sided over  by  the  Bishops,  to  see  to  that;  and 
between  the  two — Bishops  and  Conferences- 
there  ought  to  be  competency  to  see  that  the 
proceedings,  like  those  of  the  Quarterly  Con- 
ferences, "be  faithfully  recorded."  The  prac- 
tice, which  has  grown  up  gradually  under 
the  direction  of  martinets,  of  attempting  to 
force  every  secretary  into  one  model  of  jour- 


62      Recreations  of  a  Presiding  Elder. 


nalizing,  is  an  impracticable  piece  of  folly 
which  consumes  time,  produces  irritation, 
and  never  accomplishes  its  object. 

The  errors  of  administration  ought  to  be 
brought  out  prominently,  and  corrected  with 
a  kind  but  firm  hand;  but  the  attempt  to  de- 
stroy the  individuality  of  secretaryship  is  a 
mistake,  and  will  be  always,  as  it  has  been 
in  the  past,  a  failure. 


The  Thomasites. 


63 


No.  10. 

THE  THOMASITES. 
RAVELING  the  other  morning  in 
a  freight- train,  I  fell  in  company 
with  a  "Thomasite,"  "soul-sleep- 
er," "  Christadelphian,"  or  something  else 
of  that  kind.  He  was  a  kindly,  conceited 
fellow,  who  imagined  that  he  had  the  key  of 
all  religions  knowledge,  and  with  great  com- 
placency and  wearisome  iteration,  opened  that 
otherwise  inaccessible  treasure  for  the  delec- 
tation of  strangers. 

I  should  have  been  silent  when  he  began 
to  talk,  but  for  the  fact  that  he  commenced 
with  scoffing  at  the  doctrine  of  punishment 
for  sin  after  this  life.  That  style  of  thing,  is 
dangerous  in  its  effect  on  some  souls,  and  for 
their  sake  I  took  a  round  with  him  on  the 
foundation  of  his  strange  doctrine.  It  seemed 
to  be  amusing  and  withal  interesting  to  the 
train  conductor,  a  healthy,  tine  young  fellow, 
with  an  open  countenance  and  a  smile  that 
smacked  of  home-life  and  the  thought  of 
mother  and  sisters.  Burns  said  that  "  Scotia's 


64      Recreations  of  a  Presiding  Elder. 


greatness"  sprung  out  of  its  home  life.  I 
think  I  see  in  many  young  men's  faces,  as 
in  that  of  this  one,  the  place  whereon  the 
same  blessed  influence  has  written  a  security 
against  spiritual  shipwreck  and  wild  wander- 
ings from  the  ancient  and  si  tuple  faith  of  the 
gospel. 

When  it  was  all  over,  I  thought  of  the  odd 
blindness  that  makes  a  man  of  ordinary  com- 
mon sense  overlook  the  overwhelming  evi- 
dence of  the  existence  of  a  soul  in  all  men.  And 
how  a  man  who  cannot  see  any  thing  in  his 
fellow-creatures  at  large  except  "animated 
dust,"  mere  organized  matter — who  takes  his 
baby  in  his  arms,  and  except  for  its  possibility 
of  after  regeneration,  regards  it  as  a  prettier 
sort  of  kitten  or  puppy,  and  if  it  were  to  die, 
would  think  it  had  gone  to  dust  just  like  a 
puppy  and  no  more — how,  I  say,  such  a  man 
can  fancy  that  belief  in  his  views  and  hold- 
ing that  Christ  and  his  apostles  taught  them, 
and  immersion  in  a  frog-pond  upon  profes- 
sion of  such  faith  can  impart  eternal  life  to 
these  soulless  creatures  (!),  is  a  marvel.  It 
might  make  the  gravest  deity  in  the  old 
"Olympic  round"  laugh  like  a  circus  clown! 


The  Tkomasites. 


65 


It  has  long  been  an  impression  with  me 
that  in  the  majority  of  these  people  "there 
is  a  screw  loose"  intellectually.  I  do  not 
mean  that  they  are  insane,  or  " cranks,"  or 
idiotic;  bat  they  are  "  speckled  birds."  They 
do  not  think  as  the  majority  of  men  think  on 
any  subject.  There  is  a  warp  and  twist  about 
their  mental  processes  —  how  produced  or 
when,  I  cannot  say — that  is  peculiar  to  their 
class.  They  are  always  splitting  Churches 
on  some  fine-drawn  or  queer  thread  of  spec- 
ulation. There  is  an  everlasting  defining 
and  dividing  going  on  among  them.  They 
resemble  a  plate  of  mica — the  thing  is  very 
thin  and  slight  at  first,  but,  to  your  sur- 
prise, it  is  capable  of  division  laterally;  and 
as  you  go  on  experimenting  on  its  laminated 
structure,  you  have  at  last  an  immense  num- 
ber of  broad,  elastic,  and  exceedingly  thin 
scales;  and  if  your  sight  were  keener  and 
your  instruments  of  division  sharper,  and 
more  delicate,  there  is  no  telling  whether  or 
not  you  ever  would  stop  splitting. 

Ah  me!  The  Lord  help  us!  My  travel- 
ing companion  had  a  head  that  stuck  out 
behind  just  under  the  brim  of  his  hat,  with 


66      Recreations  of  a  Presiding  Elder. 


a  sharply  marked  protrusion.  I  believe  it  is 
there  the  phrenologists  locate  self-conceit, 
and  perhaps  combativeness.  May  be  phre- 
nology is  half  right.  Those  are  the  elements 
of  your  disputatious  champion,  full  of  his 
dogma,  and  armed  cap-a-pie  for  an  encounter 
with  the  rest  of  mankind. 

I  once  traveled  a  circuit  in  Virginia  in 
which  some  of  the  greatest  early  conquests 
of  Dr.  John  Thomas  were  made.  While 
there  I  heard  what  I  am  about  to  relate.  I 
subsequently  became  well  acquainted  with 
the  very  eccentric  opponent  of  Thomas,  and 
learned  from  him  the  literal  truth  of  the  story. 
It  may  not  be  new  to  the  readers  of  the  Ad- 
vocate, but  it  is  too  good  to  die.  The  gem  of 
anecdote  will  bear  resetting. 

When  the  Thomasites  became  numerous 
and  aggressive,  the  Presbyterian  minister, 
then  settled  over  a  neighboring  church — Mr. 
Watt — who  was  a  man  of  learning  and  acute 
mind,  and  who  had  the  most  singular  voice 
I  ever  heard — high  in  pitch,  fine,  and  rather 
whining  in  tone,  and  with  a  little  odd  turn 
to  it  every  now  and  then,  which  was  at  once 
inimitable  and  unimaginable — thought  it  his 


The  Thomasites. 


67 


duty  to  "drive  away  erroneous  and  strange 
doctrine"  like  this  from  the  borders  of  his 
congregation,  and  so  preached  a  strong  ser- 
mon against  it  on  Galatians  i.  8.  This  pro- 
voked a  challenge  for  a  debate  (these  people 
live  on  disputation)  with  Dr.  Thomas  himself, 
which  was  promptly  accepted.  The  day  came, 
an  immense  crowd  was  assembled,  a  moder- 
ator appointed,  and  the  debate  began.  Mr. 
Watt  soon  perceived  that  his  antagonist  did 
not  have  the  knowledge  of  Hebrew  with 
which  he  was  usually  accredited,  and  which  he 
made  a  great  show  of  possessing ;  and  so,  after 
challenging  him  to  read  a  passage  out  of  the 
Hebrew  Bible  at  random  (which  was  cau- 
tiously declined),  felt  the  more  confidence  in 
attacking  his  criticisms  of  the  original  words 
translated  "soul"  in  the  Old  Testament. 
Thomas  had  asserted  that  so  far  from  mean- 
ing a  spiritual,  immaterial,  immortal  princi- 
ple, these  words  often  meant  "  air,"  "  breath," 
"perfume''  even;  and  making  the  blunder 
of  connecting  with  the  word  in  dispute  an- 
other word,  "bottles"  (e.  g.,  "bottles"  of 
perfume),  he  averred  with  some  flourish  in 
marking  the  absurdity  of  the  common  view, 


68      Recreations  of  a  Presiding  Elder. 


that  the  word  so  patly  rendered  "soul"  even 
meant  "a  smelling-bottle! " 

When  Watt  came  to  reply,  he  first  serious- 
ly refuted  the  false  criticism,  and  showed  its 
source  in  the  ignorance  of  the  pretentious  re- 
former; and  carrying  the  war  into  Africa,  he 
gave  examples  of  what  would  follow  from 
such  interpretation.  Opening  at  the  forty- 
second  Psalnl  he  read,  with  that  remarkable 
and  unique  voice  at  its  highest  pitch,  and 
with  its  queerest  turn,  "Why  art  thou  cast 
down,  O  my  smelling-bottle!  and  why  art 
thou  disquieted  within  me?"  The  effect  was 
instantaneous  and  overwhelming.  Thomas 
sprung  to  his  feet  and  said,  "You  are  beat- 
ing the  air,  sir!"  "No,"  retorted  Watt,  "I 
am  beating  Dr.  John  Thomas,  and  beating 
him  well!" 

It  may  be  safely  said  that  Thomasism  never 
recovered  from  that  blow.  The  young  men 
of  the  county,  full  of  fun,  rang  the  changes 
on  Watt's  citation  from  Psalms.  Careless 
about  the  fact  that  the  antagonists  were  dis- 
cussing Hebrew,  not  Greek,  and  thinking 
only  how  absurd  the  thing  could  be  made 
when  applied  to  any  part  of  the  Bible,  they 


The  Thomasites. 


69 


took  up  the  New  Testament,  and  read, 
"What  shall  it  profit  a  man  if  he  gain  the 
whole  world  and  lose  his  own  smellinff-bot- 
tie?"  and  read  and  laughed,  and  laughed 
and  read,  for  many  a  day. 

There  still  linger  in  those  regions  a  few 
Thomasite  families,  but  they  are  hopelessly 
dwindling.  No  resurrection  or  revival  awaits 
them.  Like  the  bodies  of  the  wicked,  ac- 
cording to  their  theory,  they  are  bound  to 
extinction,  and  no  baptism  will  give  them 
eternal  life. 


70      Recreations  of  a  Presiding  Elder. 


No.  11. 

COUNTRY  CHURCH-YARDS. 
OME  time  since  at  a  country  church 
I  noticed  near  by  an  in  closure1  of 
white  palings  around  about  half 
an  acre  of  ground.  On  inspection  it  proved 
to  be  a  grave-yard. 

The  people  of  that  vicinity  had  discovered 
the  value  of  a  common  burial-place  for  their 
church  community.  Their  dead  were  no 
longer  to  be  scattered  over  a  wide  neighbor- 
hood, at  neglected  and  forsaken  private  bury- 
ing-places,  but  were  to  be  collected  into  a 
receptacle  near  their  house  of  worship,  al- 
ways in  sight  when  the  worshipers  assembled 
at  the  house  of  God;  their  remains  protected 
from  desecration,  and  laid  away  in  squares 
and  lots  green  and  fresh  looking  even  in 
winter,  and  beautified  with  ornamental  shrubs 
and  flowers.  I  have  seen  some  other  move- 
ments of  the  same  kind.  I  hail  them  with 
great  joy,  and  hope  to  seethe  practice  obtain 
universally. 

I  hope  I  shall  live  to  see  a  cemetery  at 


Country  Church-yards. 


71 


almost  every  Methodist  church  in  the  coun- 
try. 

Very  beautiful  are  the  grave -yards  near 
the  old  Presbyterian  and  Lutheran  and  other 
churches  in  the  Valley  of  Virginia.  As  I  write 
I  think  of  one  near  the  "Blowing  Cave." 
As  the  stage  turned  down  the  slanting  road 
and  the  "westering"  sun  glistened  from  the 
Cow  Pasture  (or  may  be  it  is  the  Calf  Pas- 
ture) River,  the  white  grave-stones  gleamed 
out  of  the  grassy  sod,  and  added  a  charm  of 
sacred  rest  to  the  scenery.  Unmolested,  and 
yet  unforgotten  and  guarded,  the  "forefa- 
thers of  the  hamlet"  slept  around  the  house 
of  God — "the  God  not  of  the  dead  but  of 
the  living,  for  all  live  unto  him."  Alive 
for  evermore!  "absent  from  the  body,"  but 
"present  with  the  Lord,"  the  deceased  saints 
of  that  region  looked  down  from  heavenly 
heights  upon  the  place  where  their  flesh  rest- 
ed in  hope,  and  nothing  in  the  scene  could 
have  offended  their  sanctified  tastes  or  caused 
disgust  toward  their  "parted  friends  still  in 
the  vale  confined,"  struggling  in  the  warfare 
with  the  world  of  ungodliness.  E"o  such 
pleasing  memory  remains  of  many  a  bury- 


72      Recreations  of  a  Presiding  Elder. 


ing-place  which  I  have  seen  in  my  wander- 
ings. 

Occasionally  as  I  look  from  the  windows  of 
the  fast-moving  train,  shooting  over  valleys 
and  through  cut  hills,  my  eyes  fall  on  a  melan- 
choly spot.  The  thick-growing  sassafras  or 
gum,  the  wild  plum  or  thorn,  untrained  and 
mi  trimmed,  in  rank  and  forbidding  luxuri- 
ance, marks  a  spot  denied  to  agriculture; 
whether  a  rock-pile  or  a  "snakery  "  might  be 
doubtful  were  it  not  that  the  remnants  of  a  de- 
caying plank  fence  or  paling,  from  which  all 
traces  of  paint  have  vanished,  proclaim  that  it 
is  a  so-called  grave-yard.  There  is  no  memorial 
of  the  dead,  no  dates  or  names.  Close  search 
might  reveal  some  rough  head  and  foot- 
stones,  taken  from  the  field  hard  by  and  "  set 
up "  when  the  graves  were  filled.  The  space 
between  them  hints  as  to  the  age  (by  the 
height)  of  the  dead.  These  short  graves  hold 
"  somebody's  darlings."  That  long  one  yon- 
der may  be  a  patriarch  of  the  group,  or  a 
tall  youth  fallen  in  the  prime  of  his  hopeful 
life.  But  the  place  has  been  sold  away  from 
its  original  owners;  scarcely  anybody  around 
could  tell  about  them,  and  soon  nobody  will 


Country  Church-yards.  73 


know  or  care;  and  the  besom  of  decay  and 
neglect  will  sweep  away  all  traces  of  a  "re- 
served "  burying-place. 

In  her  childhood  and  youth  my  mother, 
who  was  an  orphan,  had  a  very  dear  friend 
who  was  a  mother  to  her.  That  lady,  of 
good  family,  of  fair  possessions,  of  a  wide 
connection,  was  buried  in  an  old  family  bury- 
ing-place, on  the  land  of  my  brother-in-law, 
"reserved"  in  all  the  deeds  of  conveyance. 
My  mother,  when  on  her  death-bed,  desired 
that  her  body  might  be  laid  near  the  grave 
of  her  faithful  and  revered  friend.  She  would 
sleep  also  in  a  few  hundred  yards  of  the  cham- 
ber of  her  only  daughter.  We  complied  with 
her  wish  asfaras  possible;  butthoughlessthan 
forty  years  had  elapsed,  nobody  could  point 
out  the  grave  of  that  noble  woman.  Her  son, 
a  Venerable  and  infirm  man,  was  still  alive,  at 
the  distance  of  five  or  six  miles,  but  had  not 
been  to  the  neighboring  village  for  a  long 
while.  Possibly  he  could  have  guessed  where 
it  was.  Possibly  my  mother  in  her  life  had 
ventured  a  guess  of  the  same  kind  while 
walking  under  the  honey-locusts  and  per- 
simmons.    That  old  man  is  gone,  all  his 


74      Recreations  of  a  Presiding  Eider. 


generation  are  probably  gone;  which  of  the 
obscure  and  fast-sinking  stones  once  set  up  at 
the  head  and  foot  mark  her  resting-place 
there  is  probably  none  upon  earth  that  can 
tell.  The  uninclosed  common — beaten  by 
feet  of  sheep  and  ox,  unlike  the  surrounding 
pasture  only  in  that  it  has  some  trees  and 
sunken  spaces,  with  singular  obstructive 
stones  here  and  there — hides  the  dust  of  a 
noble  lady  of  refinement,  comparative  wealth, 
character,  and  a  wide  circle  of  kindred  of 
great  respectability!  The  resurrectionist's 
spade  or  the  archangel's  trump  will  be  re- 
quired to  identify  her  grave!  The  graves  of 
the  grandfather  and  grandmother  of  a  dis- 
tinguished American  general  are  in  a  little 
corner  of  outlying  field  between  two  roads 
just  beyond  Farmville.  The  English  gentle- 
man now  owning  the  farm  made  an  offer 
concerning  the  rescue  of  that  place  from  ob- 
literation, which  he  informed  me  was  not 
responded  to.  His  plow  runs  up  to  the  tan- 
gled wild  of  plum-bushes,  rock-piles,  and  run- 
ning briers  —  annually  contracting  —  which 
distinguishes  the  resting-place  of  the  old 
people.    In  a  few  years,  I  think,  their  bones 


Country  Church-yards.  75 


will  sleep  under  the  tilled  glebe,  forgotten 
and  forsaken  till  Christ  comes.  Somewhere 
along  the  course  of  the  old  road  from  Suffolk 
to  Portsmouth  lie  the  bones  of  Robert  Will- 
iams, the  first  Methodist  preacher  that  ever 
spoke  the  words  of  eternal  life  in  Virginia. 
It  is  barely  possible  (though  improbable)  that 
he  was  buried  in  the  old  church-yard  at 
Benn's,  but  otherwise  the  conjecture  of  Dr. 
Bennett  is  probably  correct — that  the  plow- 
boy  whistles  his  jocund  air,  as  all  unconscious 
he  drives  his  share  over  the  dust  of  the  holy 
and  great  pioneer  of  Methodism! 

Let  us  make  these  calamitous  accidents 
impossible  hereafter  by  making  and  main- 
taining at  all  our  country  churches  a  "God's 
acre,"  beautiful  and  well  inclosed — if  possi- 
ble, with  brick  or  stone.  Let  it  be  laid  out 
in  seemly  and  attractive  style.  Let  the 
women,  those  ministers  of  grace  and  beauty 
in  every  community,  see  that  it  is  planted 
with  evergreens  and  adorned  with  flowering 
shrubs  and  plants.  Grant  each  family  a  plat. 
There  let  each  church-community  bury  its 
dead;  not  as  the  criminal  and  suicide — "at 
the  forks  of  a  road,  with  a  stake  in  his 


76      Recreations  of  a  Presiding  Elder 


heart " — but  so  that  the  lost  may  be  "bad 
in  remembrance,"  and  their  last  resting- 
place  be  hallowed  above  common  ground 
forever  more. 


The  Quarter  Stretch. 


77 


No.  12. 
THE  QUARTER  STRETCH. 

HEN"  I  was  a  boy  my  father  lived 
in  a  country  village.  iTear  it,  in  a 
certain  year,  there  was  established 
a  race-course.  The  "  sporting"  propensities 
of  the  community  at  length  reached  that 
height.  There  had  been  gamblers  in  it  "  of 
old  time;"  there  were  some  connoisseurs  in 
horse-flesh.  The  racing  mania  was  then  at 
its  height  in  the  United  States.  "Boston" 
was  about  retiring  on  his  glory  as  an  un- 
equaled  Virginia  steed.  With  the  cultiva- 
tion of  some  local  celebrities  in  the  way  of 
fast  animals  and  the  preparation  of  the  course 
lor  the  regular  "races,"  there  was  much  ex- 
citement among  the  juniors  of  every  family. 
My  father  did  not  allow  us  to  attend  races; 
but  in  our  excursions  to  the  woods  and  fish- 
ing, and  the  like,  we  took  the  race-track  in 
the  way  coming  back,  and  walked  around 
the  stables,  saw  the  celebrated  animals,  and 
looked  at  the  wonderful  circle  itself,  with  its 
judges'  stand,  etc.  And  on  race-days  some 
• 


78      Recreations  of  a  Presiding  Elder. 


of  ns  mounted  to  the  top  of  the  house,  and, 
little  affected  by  the  splendid  mountain  scen- 
ery that  stretched  off,  under  a  glorious  sky, 
before  our  eyes,  bent  our  gaze,  with  true  fall- 
en proclivities,  upon  the  earth  and  its  distant 
race-course.  There  we  had  occasional  glimps- 
es of  the  hotly- contested  field,  as  a  group  of 
flying  horses,  with  trim  mountings,  and  jock- 
eys bent  forward  over  their  necks,  flashed 
across  the  line  of  our  strained  vision.  Now 
and  then  they  were  "neck  to  neck."  Re- 
port said,  in  many  a  case,  breathlessly  told, 
that  "a  blanket  could  have  been  laid  on  both 
as  they  ran."  From  our  house-top  aerie  one 
very  important  part  of  the  track  came  into 
view.  They  called  it  the  "quarter  stretch." 
It  was  the  last  fourth  of  a  mile  before  the 
judges'  stand  was  reached.  Victory  hung 
upon  that  "stretch."  Often  it  was  snatched 
from  a  favorite  animal  in  that  quarter  of  a 
mile.  If,  when  the  foremost  horse  passed 
the  stand,  any  unfortunate  animal  was  be- 
hind a  certain  point  in  that  stretch,  they  said 
he  was  "distanced,"  and  he  could  run  no 
more  in  any  "  heat "  of  that  race.  (I  remem- 
ber the  intense  astonishment,  mortification, 

I 


The  Quarter  Stretch.  79 

and  disgust  we  boys  felt  when  it  was  an- 
nounced that  4 'Hard  Cider" — -a  village  nag 
of  great  popularity  with  us,  as  we  viewed 
daily  his  sleek  black  coat  and  arching  neck 
"clothed  with  thunder" — had  been  actually 
"distanced"  in  his  first  race!  That  was  also 
his  last.  He  was  a  doomed  animal  from  that 
time.  He  was  condemned  to  ignominious 
pulling  in  a  wagon  team.) 

As  I  have  been  proceeding  on  this  fourth 
round  of  quarterly-meetings,  that  old  race- 
course has  occurred  to  me,  and  furnished  an 
image  of  things  ecclesiastical.  We  are  on 
the  "  quarter  stretch  !"  The  last  two  furlongs 
of  our  ecclesiastical-year  track  are,  in  part, 
past  already.  Swift  feet  hurry  along  the  fa- 
tal "stretch."  Spiritually,  financially,  cler- 
ically, we  are  putting  forth  all  our  powers 
for  victory  or  defeat.  By  the  15th  of  No- 
vember every  preacher,  every  church,  every 
circuit,  and  every  station  will  have  passed 
the  judges'  stand  triumphant  or  "second 
best,"  or,  it  may  be,  will  have  hauled  up 
"  distanced,"  disgraced,  and,  leaping  the  side- 
rail  in  disgust,  have  made  off  for  the  stable 
of  some  subterfuge  or  poor  excuse.  What 


80      Recreations  of  a  Presiding  Elder. 


whipping  and  spurring  of  stewards  to  "  bring 
up"  deficiencies  in  payments;  what  plung- 
ing and  kicking  and  rearing  of  obstinate, 
stingy,  and  unfaithful  members  under  the 
lively  persuadings  of  the  officials;  what  rac- 
ing and  reaching  after  lost  opportunities  and 
fleeing  hopes  of  preachers  and  workers  of  all 
sorts;  what  panting  and  blowing  and  heav- 
ing of  overworked  people  of  every  class,  aim- 
ing to  do  the  work  of  six  months  in  one, 
does  this  old  "quarter  stretch"  witness!  It 
has  seen  the  like,  perhaps  worse,  for  many  a 
year. 

On  one  side  the  sight  is  suggestive  of  good. 
It  is  well  for  faithful  men,  even  at  the  last 
time,  and  with  a  slim  chance  of  success,  to 
attempt  the  retrieving  of  a  state  of  affairs 
which  has  been  brought  about  by  the  unbe- 
lief and  neglects  and  sins  of  others.  It  is  a 
noble  thing  in  that  noble  band  of  men  that 
never  bowed  the  knee  to  any  Baal  of  world- 
liness  or  idolatry,  when  they  resolve,  if  pos- 
sible, to  save  a  battle  about  to  be  lost  by  the 
treachery  of  a  membership  which  cannot  be 
depended  upon.  They  will  have  one  more 
protracted- meeting;    they  will   make  one 


The  Quarter  Stretch. 


81 


more  effort  to  begin  a  Sunday- school ;  they 
will  make  sacrifices  to  see  the  preacher  paid 
in  full,  and  not  suffer  the  collections  to  fall 
behind;  they  will  stir  up  their  hearts  once 
more  to  infuse  into  the  body  ecclesiastic  some 
life  and  vi^or  and  ardor  in  Christ's  cause. 
Faithful  souls,  may  God's  blessing  abide 
with  you!  If  all  the  members  of  the  Church 
were  like  you,  the  country  would,  spiritual- 
ly speaking,  "  blossom  as  the  rose."  And 
you  have  your  reward.  Sometimes  it  is  of 
success.  The  inert  and  faithless  cannot  with- 
stand your  fervid  piety.  They  are  aroused, 
and  do  wonderfully  better  than  was  expect- 
ed; and  at  the  last  moment,  when  failure 
seems  imminent,  there  is  poured  out  a  bless- 
ing which  there  is  not  room  to  contain.  Or 
if  failure  in  some  degree  comes  anyhow,  its 
force  is  in  a  measure  broken;  there  is  a 
foundation  for  future  steps  of  recovery ; 
there  is  a  seed  of  hope  and  cheerfulness  left; 
and  the  answer  of  a  good  conscience,  in  your 
cases,  sweetens  the  bitterness  of  default. 

But  other  reflections  are  awakened  as  we 
look  at  the  "quarter  stretch"  struggle,  espe- 
cially at  its  financial  side.    Why  should  this 
6 


82      Recreations  of  a  Presiding  Elder. 


annual  effort  be  necessary?  Why  will  men 
deliberately  put  off  what  they  know  must  be 
done,  and  that  erelong,  or  else  failure  will  en- 
sue? I  venture  a  few  guesses  at  the  why : 99 
1.  Some  do  not  believe  there  is  disgrace 
in  failure.  It  does  not  hurt  them  for  the 
preacher  to  be  deficient  upon  his  small  sala- 
ry. He  can  stand  it;  has  been  standing  it  a 
long  time.  He  and  his  family  know  how  to 
pinch.  He  has  done  faithful  work;  if  not 
perfect  in  its  excellence,  it  is  very  good  for 
the  price.  He  has  gone,  in  wet  and  dry 
weather,  preaching,  visiting,  and  administer- 
ing discipline.  His  allowance  is  very  neces- 
sary for  his  support,  but  he  can  manage  to 
pay  one-sixth  of  it  himself.  True,  the  rich- 
est man  on  the  circuit  has  never  been  guilty 
of  half  such  liberality  in  support  of  the  gos- 
pel, but  he  is  not  a  preacher,  and  is  supposed 
to  be  unequal  to  such  a  stretch  of  grace. 
And  it  is  no  mortification  to  have  Dalefield 
Circuit  read  out  at  Conference  as  giving  four 
dollars  to  Foreign  Missions  and  one  dollar 
and  a  half  to  Domestic  Missions,  and  one- 
third  of  the  assessment  for  Conference  Col- 
lection and  Educational  and  Bishops'  funds. 


The  Quarter  Stretch. 


83 


One  of  the  stewards  has  already  asked  the 
presiding  elder  if  he  does  not  think  they- 
could  get  about  one  or  two  hundred  dollars 
appropriation  from  the  Domestic  Mission 
lioard.  They  do  not  mind  being  pilloried 
in  the  "Minutes."  The  truth  is,  they  do  not 
often  see  the  "Minutes."  The  preacher  had 
a  hard  time  selling  his  nine  copies  this  year. 
So  they  have  taken  eleven  months  and  twen- 
ty days  to  find  out  what  they  could  do,  and 
have  not  maintained,  in  actual  execution, 
the  standard  of  their  conjecture  made  at  that 
late  day.  It  will  make  very  little  difference 
whether  they  do  or  not,  especially  a  hundred, 
years  from  this  time. 

2.  Some  lack  system,  and  do  not  act  with 
any  method.  If  they  would  be  precise,  and. 
ascertain  regularly  what  they  can  do,  and 
begin  to  do  it  early  in  the  year,  they  would 
accomplish  more,  vastly  more,  and  do  it  with 
much  greater  ease.  The  race  would  be  wron 
before  the  "quarter  stretch"  w^as  reached, 
and  they  would  simply  have  to  draw  rein 
and  gallop  victoriously,  at  an  easy  pace,  over 
that  famous  ground.  I  am  satisfied  that  this 
is  the  evil  factor  in  a  multitude  of  cases. 


84     Recreations  of  a  Presiding  Elder. 


Acting  on  principle,  and  acting  systematic- 
ally, would  cure  many  evils  in  spiritual  and 
financial  matters.  Especially  would  it  cure 
this  straining  and  gasping  in  the  attempt  to 
meet  expenses.  If  every  man  would  "lay 
by  him  in  store as  God  has  prospered  him 
every  week,  or  determine  by  some  other  plan 
how  much  exactly  he  can  venture  to  give, 
and  give  it  steadily  and  statedly,  there  would 
be  no  need  for  such  breathless  exertions  to 
raise  comparatively  small  amounts.  In  some 
cases  the  preacher  cultivates  system  in  his 
membership  with  respect  to  the  "collec- 
tions," while  the  stewards  practice  irregular- 
ity among  themselves,  and  confirm  the  peo- 
ple in  their  lack  of  method  with  respect  to 
the  preacher's  salary;  and  so,  at  the  "  quarter 
stretch"  he  has  his  collections  in  hand,  and 
they  leave  such  a  faithful  man  of  God  not 
only  in  danger  of  loss,  but  often  actually  de- 
ficient, by  their  accumulated  arrears.  Spur- 
ring and  whipping  over  the  "  stretch"  will  not 
save  the  race.  And  sometimes  such  a  preach- 
er is  told,  for  his  consolation,  that  if  he  had 
not  raised  money  for  missions,  etc.,  he  would 
have  got  his  own  pay! 


The  Quarter  Stretch. 


85 


3.  There  is  a  great  deal  of  dead  wood  in 
our  membership.  I  think  as  a  body  we  have 
less  attachment  to  our  Church  than  any  oth- 
er people.  There  is  less  Church  pride  among 
us.  We  do  not  feel  stung  as  others  do  when 
comparisons  are  made  to  our  disadvantage. 
We  have  managed  somehow  to  get  into  our 
membership  many  people  who  have  little  or 
no  religion,  no  zeal,  no  sense  of  personal  re- 
sponsibility to  God  and  the  Church,  little  in- 
telligence, less  information  about  religious 
matters;  who  lie  still  to  be  acted  upon, 
preached  at,  scolded,  stirred  up ;  an  inert, 
lethargic  mass,  "at  ease  in  Zion."  I  believe 
we  would  be  better  if  the  whole  of  such  mem- 
bership were  cut  off.  But,  as  we  retain  it,  it 
forms  a  basis  of  calculation  and  expectation. 
We  seem  to  have  so  many  members  and  so 
much  property  and  resources.  But  that  part 
of  our  ecclesiastical  tree  is  dead.  It  does 
not  sprout  a  branch  or  put  forth  bud  or  leaf 
or  flower  or  fruit.  These  are  our  habitual 
neglecters  of  worship,  our  chronic  grumblers 
and  growlers,  our  ecclesiastical  Bedouins, 
gambling  about  to  every  new  thing,  the  bane 
of  faithful  stewards  and  collectors,  the  heart- 


86      Recreations  of  a  Presiding  Elder. 


sickening  of  ministers  and  pious  people. 
The  delinquencies  of  such  "sons  of  Belial" 
are  to  be  anticipated,  but  it  is  not  so  easy  to 
provide  against  them.  A  steward  in  tow  of 
such  people  resembles  Elliott,  in  "  South 
Carolina  Sports,"  convoying  an  immense 
load  of  harpooned  devil-fish.  After  immense 
toil,  paying  out  line,  rowing  and  pulling 
against  tide  and  wind,  at  the  critical  moment 
his  harpoon  pulls  out  of  the  disgusting  mass, 
and  it  sinks  out  of  sight  by  its  own  weight. 
He  has  "toiled  all  night,  and  caught  "  worse 
than  "nothing."  He  cannot  even  "make  a 
show  openly"  of  his  dead  monster. 

But  enough  of  this.  When  this  sees  the 
light  of  print  we  shall  have  run  our  year's 
race.  In  "  Conference  assembled. "  we  will  be 
reviewing  the  irrevocable  past  and  planning 
for  our  new  year. 

Reader,  consider  these  things.  If  you 
have  had  any  part  in  causing  the  difficulties 
of  the  "quarter  stretch,"  amend  forthwith. 


Unconscious  Selfishness. 


87 


j 

No.  13. 

UNCONSCIOUS  SELFISHNESS, 


mm 

iMIlll 


of  the  perplexing  problems  of 
practical  life  is  the  case  of  men, 
otherwise  good,  out  of  whose  living 
there  crops  here  and  there  an  offensive  and 
sometimes  disgusting  selfishness.  What  are 
wTe  to  think  of  them?  How  hard  it  is,  es- 
pecially for  generous,  true-hearted,  self-sac- 
rificing men  to  believe  the  piety  of  these  men 
to  be  genuine!  To  recognize  their  religion 
seems  like  indorsing  the  devil's  paper.  Yet, 
while  in  their  faults  they  "offend"  every 
right-minded  man  to  the  point  ofttimes  of 
awakening  a  hoi}'  indignation,  they  are  in 
many  features  unmistakably  good  and  devout. 
If  ministers  of  the  gospel,  they  maybe  labori- 
ous, eloquent,  earnest,  spiritually-minded  in 
most  things;  if  laymen,  upright,  honest,  ami- 
able, zealous  for  religion  and  morality,  un- 
spotted in  domestic  and  social  relations.  To 
condemn  them  utterly  is  to  adopt  a  standard 
which  sooner  or  later  will  destroy  every  man's 
hopes;  for  who  is  not  faulty?  who  is  without 


88      Recreations  of  a  Presiding  Elder. 


serious  blemishes?  whose  motives  are  always 
of  the  purest  and  loftiest  type  in  every  thing? 
We  allow  that  they  are  pious;  and  sometimes 
affecting  proofs  of  this  come  out  of  their 
private  papers  or  secret  histoiw.  But  we 
feel  tempted  to  withdraw  the  admission  of 
their  claims  to  piety  when  we  run  foul  of 
their  weakness.  It  is  an  unlovely  type  of 
character. 

We  once  knew  a  man  of  a  devout  and  most 
serious  cast.  He  was  a  man  of  prayer  and 
of  purest  living  in  the  prominent  features  of 
his  behavior.  He  was  a  minister,  and  at- 
tained, great  eminence  as  a  preacher.  His 
eloquence,  fervor,  and  power  wTere  unexcelled. 
He  held  the  soundest  views  of  theology  and 
experimental  religion.  Being  well  acquainted 
with  him,  we  mentioned  in  his  presence  our  in- 
tention to  journey  in  a  certain  direction.  He, 
it  seems,  wasaboutchanginghis  residence,  and 
with  his  whole  family  going  in  the  same  direc- 
tion. He  at  once  expressed  great  pleasure 
that  we  were  to  be  fellow-travelers-;  but  he 
presently  unfolded  the  reason.  He  mentioned, 
with  perfect  artlessness,  that  wTe  could  render 
him  a  service  at  starting,  in  a  matter  which 


Unconscious  Selfishness. 


89 


threatened  to  be  burdensome.  Musing  a 
little,  he  bethought  himself  of  another  place 
where  we  could  also  do  him  a  like  service. 
And  renewing  his  expression  of  pleasure  at 
our  going,  he  did  not  say  a  syllable  besides,  nor 
afterward  when  we  met,  indicating  that  he 
had  ever  taken  another  view  of  our  going 
than  that  of  an  unexpected  service  to  him- 
self. He  was  glad  that  we  were  going  as  a 
man  when  his  shoes  are  soiled  would  be  glad 
to  meet  a  boot-black,  with  a  fair  chance  to 
have  the  boot-black's  services  gratuitously 
rendered.  It  was  amusing  —  the  innocent 
simplicity  of  the  whole  thing — but  it  was 
also  provoking. 

A  commoner  form  of  this  evil  is  the  forma- 
tion of  a  habit  of  so  acting  that  we  make  the 
impression  upon  our  fellow-men  that  there  is 
some  ulterior  object  of  a  selfish  nature  in  every 
thing  we  do.  People  learn  to  think,  we  edu- 
cate them  to  think,  that  we  never  speak  or  act 
from  the  unstudied  impulse  of  an  open,  can- 
did nature.  They  are  led,  whether  or  no,  to 
look  below  our  words  and  acts — the  most 
trivial  or  ordinary — for  some  deeper  or  more 
real  meaning. 


90      Recreations  of  a  Presiding  Elder. 


The  late  Samuel  Wilberforce,  Bishop  of 
Oxford  in  the  English  Establishment,  a  son 
of  the  great  William  Wilberforce,  seems  to 
have  been  such  a  man.  Of  great  abilities  in 
every  respect,  especially  as  a  preacher,  and 
despite  his  errors  and  defects,  a  man  of  a  de- 
vout and  truly  penitent  and  believing  frame 
of  mind,  he  succeeded  in  setting  even  such  a 
man  as  Prince  Albert  thoroughly  against 
him.  That  nobleman — worthy  nephew  of 
King  Leopold,  worthy  consort  of  such  a 
Queen  as  Victoria — had,  in  the  course  of  fif- 
teen years'  acquaintance  with  Wilberforce, 
come  to  this  judgment,  expressed  to  the  Earl 
of  Aberdeen  :  "  He  does  every  thing  for  some 
object.  He  has  a  motive  for  all  his  conduct." 
And  by  this  he  meant  to  express  "a  suspi- 
cion "  as  to  the  Bishop's  "  sincerity  and  disin- 
terestedness." 

Bishop  Wilberforce  is  unfortunately  not 
alone  in  this  respect.  A  number  of  illus- 
trations come  to  our  remembrance  of  just 
such  men.  After  sufficient  acquaintance  (al- 
though our  first  impressions  may  have  been 
like  Prince  Albert's  of  Samuel  Wilberforce, 
at  his  speech  in  Exeter  Hall,  June  1,  1841), 


Unconscious  Selfishness. 


91 


we  become  satisfied  that  these  people  "do 
every  thing  for  some  object."  We  sometimes 
see  plainly  what  that  object  is;  but  when  we 
do  not,  we  are  none  the  less  satisfied  that 
something  ulterior  is  lurking  in  the  private 
counsels  of  our  plausible  and  polite,  and  per- 
haps highly-accomplished,  brother.  In  the 
political  phraseology  of  the  day,  he  is  "mak- 
ing a  slate;"  and  in  that  "slate"  we  may  be 
sure  that  his  own  interest  occupies  a  central 
position.  Such  men  appear  to  be  incapable 
of  understanding  the  apostolic  direction,  "In 
honor  preferring  one  another."  They  are 
always  thinking,  behind  all  their  speeches 
and  acts  that  do  not  appear  to  mean  this,  of 
how  to  take  care  of  themselves  to  the  best 
advantage.  The  indulgence  and  cultivation 
of  this  spirit  prepare  the  way  for  the  occa- 
sional lapses  into  more  open  and  downright 
selfishness  by  which  some  end  is  gained. 
Then  the  sin  is  more  palpable,  and  probably 
ceases  to  be  what  we  have  termed  "uncon- 
scious." 

Much  of  this  unworthy  spirit  is,  beyond 
all  doubt,  not  understood  in  its  true  nature 
by  the  man  who  is  possessed  by  it.  Like 


92      Recreations  of  a  Presiding  Elder. 


men  under  the  dominion  of  covetousness  and 
egotism,  the  victim  has  given  his  blemish  a 
flattering  name,  and  thinks  of  it  under  the 
glamour  of  that  deceptive  title.  We  have 
known  men  exacting  sacrifices  of  everybody 
in  their  families  and  making  none  themselves, 
who  imagined  that  they  were  patterns  of 
domestic  loveliness.  We  have  seen  exacting, 
fretful  women  whom  nothing  could  please, 
who  supposed  themselves  to  be  the  most 
amiable  companions  in  the  world.  We  have 
known  preachers  always  maneuvering  for 
soft  places,  hinting  for  favors,  taking  "  short 
cuts"  upon  a  competing  brother,  and  not 
objecting  to  a  little  self-advertising,  who  have 
reviewed  the  whole  process  in  a  "little  Jack 
Horner"  spirit,  and  wound  up  the  transac- 
tion with  Jack's  reflection:  "What  a  nice 
boy  am  I!"  Could  these  people,  and  all 
others  who  belong  to  this  line  of  business, 
see  themselves  faithfully  reflected  in  one  of 
the  mirrors  that  may  exist,  for  all  we  know, 
in  another  world  but  do  not  in  this,  they 
would  be  equally  annoyed  and  confounded. 

The  reader  will  "suffer  a  word  of  exhor- 
tation."   Try  to  be  externally  exactly  what 


Unconscious  Selfishness.  93 


you  design  to  be  internally.  The  evil  spirit 
will  tempt  you  to  lay  on  a  gloss  of  some  sort, 
You  must  be  polite,  obliging,  politic,  suave, 
if  you  would  do  good;  and  in  order  to  this, 
concealment  of  some  kind  is  necessary.  Men 
cannot  afford  to  show  their  thoughts  to  every- 
body. All  of  which,  rightly  understood,  is 
sound  doctrine;  but  it  is  easily  perverted. 
The  best  way  is  not  to  need  concealment. 
Do  not  be  excessively  cordial  in  manner  when 
cool  in  heart;  you  will  end  by  being  a  knave 
in  your  selfish  hypocrisy,  feigning  what  you 
never  feel.  If  naturally  reserved  or  distant, 
try  to  get  rid  of  that  defect,  but  not  by  as- 
suming what  you  do  not  feel.  One  of  the 
very  meanest  manifestations  of  a  petty  self- 
ishness is  an  assumption  of  universal  and  ever- 
present  cordiality  for  the  purpose  of  winning  the 
good-will  of  our  fellow-men.  Do  not  gush, 
when  the  stream  of  disinterested  love  in  your 
bosom  is,  as  you  know,  a  very  tiny  streamlet. 
Wait  for  a  natural  "freshet"  before  you  open 
the  flood-gates.  Deeply  study  and  try  to 
practice  Philippians  ii.  4.  There  are  "things 
of  others."  Yes,  really,  there  is  somebody 
else  in  the  world  besides  yourself;  and  other 


94      Recreations  of  a  Presiding  Elder. 


people  have  "things"  in  the  way  of  inter- 
ests, wants,  desires,  affections,  goods.  Try 
to  realize  it.  Cultivate  a  going  out  toward 
them,  not  a  sucking  in  toward  yourself  all 
the  time;  go  out  of  your  way  to  be  accom- 
modating and  obliging;  suffer  occasionally 
for  another's  sake;  do  not  exact  all  you  are 
entitled  to;  sit  in  the  shade  of  obscurity 
sometimes,  of  choice,  as  a  matter  of  personal 
discipline.  A  thoroughly  unselfish  good  man 
is  only  "  a  little  lower  than  the  angels." 
Climb  toward  that  height. 


Doers  of  the  Word. 


95 


No.  14. 

DOERS  OF  THE  WORD. 
NTERIXG  a  church  of  a  sister  de- 
nomination a  short  time  since,  we 
saw  over  the  recess  behind  the  pul- 
pit the  language  of  James  i.  22.  Impress- 
ive sermon!  We  heard  the  preacher  on  the 
wall — Doers,  and  not  hearers  only !  Yes,  that 
is  it.  The  grand  old  apostle's  figure  is  not 
bad — of  the  transient  look  in  the  glass,  with 
its  "  straightway  "  forgetting  "  what  man- 
ner of  man  "  it  was  the  mirror  reflected. 
That  is  what  is  the  matter  with  great  num- 
bers of  the  hearers  who  throng  our  churches 
every  week — they  hear,  and  that  is  the  end 
of  it;  hear  and  forget,  hear  and  never  prac- 
tice, hear  and  remain  unchanged;  thoughts 
the  same,  words  the  same,  habits  the  same, 
life-principles  the  same,  the  view  of  things 
unaltered  for  the  temporary  intrusion  on 
Sundays  of  a  very  different  picture. 

How  much  good  doctrine  comes  forth  from 
our  Methodist  pulpits,  in  our  cities  only,  every 
Sunday !    How  much  from  the  country  pul- 


96      Recreations  of  a  Presiding  Elder. 


pits  on  every  side  !  What  if  all  were  done, 
as  well  as  listened  to — what  rare  Christians 
we  should  have,  what  growing,  improving, 
active,  faithful  men  and  women  !  And  why 
not?  Do  we  not  go  thither  to  hear,  that  we 
may  do?  Do  we  plan  in  advance  only  to 
hear?  Do  we  deny  the  obligation  to  prac- 
tice even  more  than  to  hear? 

What  a  shrinking  up  at  once  it  would 
cause  of  the  army  of  captious  and  unreason- 
able critics  !  Other  business — urgent  busi- 
ness— for  them!  Doing  the  word;  ah,  that 
would  fill  heart  and  hands!  No  time  for 
cool  and  merciless  objections  to  this  man's 
style  and  that  man's  manner,  to  this  preach- 
er's education  and  that  preacher's  mode  of 
preparation.  Let  him  take  care  of  himself. 
"  To  his  own  Master  he  standeth  or  falleth." 
Enough  for  us,  and  more  than  enough,  to  be 
taking  care  of  ourselves!  What  a  stock  al- 
ready laid  up  of  duty  known  but  not  per- 
formed, of  truth  enforced  npon  us  but  never 
illustrated  in  our  lives,  of  errors  to  be  cor- 
rected, of  bad  habits  to  be  renounced,  of 
good  deeds  to  be  clone  ere  "the  night  com- 
eth  " — the  night  "  when  no  man  can  work." 


Doers  of  the  Word. 


97 


What  a  stirring  in  the  army  of  drones ! 
What  a  buzzing  of  wings  and  putting  forth 
of  feet  and  arms  !  What  another  shaking  in 
"  the  valley  of  dry  bones  !  "  is~o  more  sleep, 
no  more  dullness — inattentive,  phlegmatic  ! 
So  much  to  be  done  presents  itself,  that  there 
is  no  space  for  these  by-gone  amusements  or 
torpors.  Up,  and  be  doing,  thou  sluggard  ! 
Spiritual  paralysis  has  well-nigh  smitten  you. 
When  was  it  that  you  ever  did  any  thing? 
You  hear — in  your  sort — every  Sunday,  but 
on  what  day  do  you  practice  what  you  hear? 
What  can  the  preacher  count  upon  you  for? 

It  so  happened  when  we  last  sat  in  this 
same  church  for  a  short  time,  it  was  at  a 
marriage.  We  do  not  remember  so  much 
about  noticing  that  inscription  on  the  wall 
then.  But  this  last  time  it  was  at  a  funeral. 
In  connection  with  all.  the  solemn  surround- 
ings, the  habiliments  of  mourning,  the  cof- 
fin— flower-covered,  but  a  coffin  still;  the 
solemn  hymns  and  prayers;  how  soul-pierc- 
ing those  words  on  the  wall !  They  needed 
not  "a  man's  hand  over  against  the  candle- 
stick" to  be  writing  them. 

How  differently  we  hear  or  read  at  differ- 
7 


98      Recreations  of  a  Presiding  Elder. 


ent  times  !  In  eternity  we  will  do  some  mo- 
mentous remembering.  Let  us  turn  over  a 
new  leaf  in  this  matter  of  hearing.  "Not 
hearers  only" — no,  God  forbid! — but  "doers 
of  the  word." 


The  Tunnel  of  Death.  99 


No.  15. 
THE  TUNNEL  OF  DEATH, 


TUNNEL  with  light  at  both  ends." 
So  a  friend  of  ours  in  momentary 
expectation  of  departure  out  of 
this  life,  called  death.  The  physician  in  at- 
tendance— a  non-professor,  as  so  many  of  his 
calling  are,  but  should  not  be — wrung  his 
hands,  and  with  a  look  of  the  deepest  con- 
cern, said  he  "  would  give  worlds  for  such  a 
faith ! ;' 

The  saying  is  true.  Death  to  Christians, 
as  to  other  men,  is  untried.  All  within  the 
entrance  is  dark,  gloomy,  and  forbidding. 
The  trains  which  pass  in  with  human  pas- 
sengers have  never  returned.  Neither  voice 
nor  signal  comes  through  the  Plutonian 
darkness.    In  that  respect, 

Love  may  haunt  the  grave  of  love, 
And  watch  the  mold  in  vain. 

All  is  lighted  on  this  side.  Busy,  excited, 
interested  spectators  pass  and  repass  in  the 
full  blaze  of  day.    Is  there  also  light  at  the 


100    Recreations  of  a  Presiding  Meier. 


other  end?  Do  the  passengers  sit  only  a  short 
time  in  the  darkness  and  listen  to  the  rum- 
bling wheels  on  which  they  make  transition 
from  one  world  to  the  other  ?  Do  they  pres- 
ently break  out  into  light  and  beauty  on  that 
other  side  ? 

So  the  Christian  firmly  believes.  As  he  be- 
lieves on  Jesus  Christ,  he  believes  on  him  as 
a  risen  and  exalted  Lord.  "  He  lives  who 
once  was  dead."  That  Saviour  "  entered 
the  grave  in  mortal  flesh;  "  he  went  through 
the  tunnel.  He  alone — save  the  few  whom  he 
raised  from  the  dead  more  than  eighteen 
hundred  years  ago— has  come  back  through  it. 
He  reports  the  light  on  the  other  side,  and  we 
"  have  believed  his  report."  As  thoroughly 
as  we  "  receive  the  witness  of  men  "  about 
tunnels  we  have  never  gone  through,  we  re- 
ceive the  witness  of  God,  the  Son,  which  is 
"  greater,"  more  reliable  than  that  testimony 
of  men.  And  in  this  we  have  an  immense 
advantage  over  men  who  tremble  and  doubt 
and  fear.  By  this  faith  death  is  deprived  of 
its  sting,  the  grave  of  its  victory.  We  fear 
not  to  die;  we  yield  up  our  spirits  at  our 
Lord's  command,  expecting  to  "  see  light  in 


The  Tunnel  of  Death.  101 


his  light,"  at  the  other  end  of  the  tunnel  of 
death.  There  we  "  shall  see  him  as  he  is," 
and  with  him  see 

Those  angel  faces  smile 
Which  we  have  loved  and  lost  the  while. 

"  For  we  know  that  if  our  earthly  house 
of  this  tabernacle  were  dissolved,  we  have 
a  building  of  God,  a  house  not  made  with 
hands,  eternal  in  the  heavens."  Such  knowl- 
edge is  invaluable  in  its  power  to  sustain  and 
cheer.  It  silences  all  the  tormenting  ques- 
tionings which  otherwise,  with  their  ceaseless 
din,  distract  our  souls  in  every  moment  of  re- 
flection. 

"What  after  death  for  me  remains?" 
Who  that  rejects  Christianity  can  answer 
such  a  question  satisfactorily  ?  Peering  into 
the  abyss  of  darkness  into  which  sweeps 
down  the  endless  procession  of  mortal  men, 
their  works  and  their  hopes,  what  light  can 
he  pretend  to  see  glimmering  ever  so  faintly 
out  of  the  dread  shade  ?  If  self-deceived, 
the  Christian  is  happy  in  his  delusion.  He 
will  be  as  well  off  in  any  event,  certainly  no 
worse  in  any  respect,  for  the  delusive  conso- 
lations which  cannot — says  the  unbeliever — 


102    Recreations  of  a  Presiding  Elder. 


be  realized  beyond  the  grave.  Whatever  the 
truth  (and  of  this  we  have  on  our  side  all 
that  men  have  longed,  prayed,  and  hoped 
for),  it  is  better  to  believe  that  we  are  going 
through  a  tunnel  bounded  at  each  end  by 
life  and  light  than  sinking  into  a  bottomless 
horror  of  gloomy  night  and  endless  black- 
ness. 


Starting  the  Machine. 


103 


No.  16. 

STARTING  THE  MACHINE. 

HE  machine  I  am  going  to  write 
about  starting  is  not  my  pen.  That 
has  not  been  idle,  though  in  this 
present  name  and  form  it  has  been  in  a  state 
of  suspended  animation  for  more  than  a  year. 
[  came  in  on  the  "  quarter  stretch  "  of  1881- 
82,  and  have  been  dormant  in  the  line  of 
recreations  ever  since. 

That  machine  is  the  presiding  eldership  in 
activity.  Duly  set  up  in  its  place  by  episco- 
pal authority,  oiled  and  lubricated  by  the 
unction  of  ecclesiastical  commendation,  with 
the  engineer  standing  in  his  place,  will  the 
thing  move?  And  when  it  begins  its  motion, 
will  its  energy  expend  itself  in  empty  and 
useless  revolutions  on  an  axis,  like  the  wheels 
of  a  locomotive  spinning  around  on  a  greased 
spot  in  a  steep  grade?  or  will  it  pull  a  re- 
spectable load  along,  and  thunder  through 
the  forests  by  day  and  light  up  the  darkness 
of  night  with  its  moving  fires,  and  scare  up 
the  echoes  with  its  loud  blasts?    Is  it  going 


104    Recreations  of  a  Presiding  Elder. 


to  go,  and  to  some  purpose,  or  not?  that's 
the  question. 

The  district  stewards'  meeting  will  be  here 
in  a  few  days  to  provide  a  stated  supply  of 
fuel. 

I  have  no  fellow-feeling  with  the  objurga- 
tions which  some  rash  men  among  our  clergy 
have  poured  upon  the  heads  of  these  breth- 
ren. True,  some  of  them  may  have  shown 
a  parsimonious  proclivity  to  cutting  down 
salaries;  some  may  have  esteemed  it  "the 
whole  duty  of  man"  (in  their  estate)  to  lay 
all  burdens  on  others,  and  diminish  them  as 
much  as  possible  on  their  own  appointments; 
some  may  have  meted  out  to  the  stranger 
what  they  would  have  thought  too  little  for 
a  favorite  and  well-known  elder;  but  that  is 
simply  to  say  they  are  mortal,  and  we  may 
look  for  infirmities  among  them  as  these  are 
found  in  the  incumbents  of  the  eldership. 

The  thing  most  difficult  for  them  to  get  rid 
of — which  is  an  evil — is  a  lack  of  sympathy 
with  the  officer  for  whose  support  they  pro- 
vide. He  is  a  chief  shepherd  nominally,  but 
in  fact  he  is  nobody's  pastor;  and  the  man 
who  goes  for  a  broad  and  liberal  policy  with 


Starting  the  Machine. 


105 


respect  to  his  preacher's  support  is  not  so 
certain  to  feel  the  same  principle  at  work  in 
his  breast  when  the  presiding  elder  is  con- 
cerned. The  result  is  that  the  salaries  of 
presiding  elders  have  not  been  so  large  as 
the  amounts  allowed  the  same  man  or  men 
of  equivalent  talent  when  serving  as  pastors. 
A  man  of  tolerable  ability  in  a  station  has  a 
furnished  house  and  from  $1,500  to  $2,000 
salary;  while  the  majority  of  presiding  eld- 
ers (and  some  of  them  have  been  men  of 
mark)  receive  $1,400  to  $1,800,  and  provide 
their  own  houses  and  pay  their  traveling  ex- 
penses over  a  large  district,  amounting  some- 
times to  nearly  $100  per  annum. 

The  tendency  to  such  lack  of  sympathy, 
though  in  actual  practice  it  may  not  always 
prove  to  be  so,  is  greatest  in  those  charges 
where  the  pastor  gives  the  highest  satisfac- 
tion. In  such  cases  the  steward  is  apt  to  be 
the  reflection  of  ^a  sentiment  more  or  less 
widely  diffused  among  the  people  of  the 
charge,  that  nothing  we  can  do  is  too  good 
for  our  pastor,  and  we  ought  to  do  as  little  as 
possible  for  any  "outside  character,"  such  as 
a  presiding  elder  or  a  bishop,  with  whom  our 


106    Recreations  of  a  Presiding  Eider. 


relation  is  indirect  and  has  none  of  the  close- 
ness and  tenderness  belonging  to  that  which 
exists  between  us  and  our  preacher. 

But  whether  these  things  be  so  or  not,  the 
stewards  will  meet,  and  when  the  "first 
round"  is  duly  published,  the  "tread-mill" 
— as  Dr.  Bennett  used  to  call  his  editorial 
work — will  feel  the  weekly  touch,  and  more 
or  less  the  daily  pressure  of  the  presiding  eld- 
er's feet,  and  motion  will  commence.  A 
year's  work  will  have  begun;  at  least  what 
is  "cut  out"  for  a  year.  We  cannot  yet 
know  \Vhose  feet  will  this  year  pause  upon 
the  road  of  life,  and  whose  staggering  steps 
will  turn  toward  the  rest  where  Spiller  and 
Michaels  lie  in  calm  repose.  It  may  be  one 
of  us  who  command  the  main  divisions  of 
the  working  force  will  fall.  God  help  us  to 
start  aright — with  holy  motives,  with  a  con- 
secrated spirit,  with  earnest  and  brave  pur- 
pose !  If  we  do  not  save  souls,  edify  believ- 
ers and  turn  sinners  to  repentance,  lead  men 
to  holy  living  and  stir  up  the  Church  to 
greater  usefulness  and  more  extensive  good 
works  of  all  kinds,  our  labor  will  be  in  vain. 

Sometimes  a  feeling  of  faintness  comes 


Starting  the  Machine. 


107 


over  me  as  I  look  forward  to  the  demands 
and  needs  of  the  district  in  spiritual  things. 
"  Who  is  sufficient  for  these  things  ? "  What 
an  array  of  darkness,  ignorance,  unbelief, 
backsliding  in  heart,  formalism,  pride,  selfish- 
ness, corruption,  have  my  brethren  and  I  to 
meet  and  contend  with!  But  "the  sword  of 
the  Lord  and  of  Gideon"  is  drawn  on  our 
side.  We  gained  somewhat  last  year.  We 
will  stand  fast  on  our  vantage-ground,  and 
plan  to  do  valiant  things  through  our  Lord 
and  by  the  power  of  his  might.  There  is  a 
great  deal  in  beginning  promptly  and'  well. 
The  most  popular  preacher  will  mar  his  ac- 
ceptability and  success  by  dilatory  movements, 
being  always  behind,  however  little.  Let  us 
be  "on  time,"  and  give  the  great  enemy  no 
start  of  us. 


108    Recreations  of  a  Presiding  Elder. 


No.  17. 

THE  ITINERANT'S  SACRIFICE. 
EIE  preachers  newly  appointed  to  my 
district  are  just  getting  into  place. 
Some  have  come  a  long  distance. 


All  of  them  have  been  at  more  or  less  trouble 
in  removing,  not  to  say  any  thing  of  expense 
(which  may  or  may  not  be  repaid).  Loss 
which  cannot  be  made  good  is  always  caused 
by  removal.  This  worry  and  damage  they 
usually  bear  with  reasonable  cheerfulness. 
If  now  and  then  they  fret  a  little  or  inward- 
ly chafe,  it  is  not  to  be  wondered  at;  for 
then,  perhaps,  they  are  most  keenly  remind- 
ed of  what  is  the  sacrifice  of  the  itinerancy. 
Then  they  feel — and  with  it  the  iron  enters 
their  soul — that  they  have  not,  and  never 
can  have,  a  home.  Very  comfortable  sojourn- 
ing-places  they  have  in  many  instances;  but 
no  spot  to  call  their  own,  to  adorn,  to  make 
sweet  with  little  things  which,  small  in  them- 
selves, shall  have  delightful  associations,  to 
leave  behind  to  the  wife  and  children  that 
survive.    The  few  very  fortunate  ones  may 


The  Itinerant's  Sacrifice. 


109 


comfort  their  hearts — it*  that  will  comfort — 
with  the  thought  that,  when  they  are  dis- 
abled or  dead,  enough  is  laid  up  with  which 
to  buy  a  home  and  settle  the  household.  To 
the  family  it  is  a  rather  sorrowful  view  that 
home  begins  where  joy  ends,  that  settlement 
is  possible  when  a  last  breaking  up  has  oc- 
curred. And  the  greater  part  have  no  such 
consolation.  With  a  heart  strengthened  by 
faith  in  the  Divine  Providence,  with  an  eye 
cleared  from  the  natural  dimness  of  tears  by 
habitual  looking  at  unseen  things,  they  calm- 
ly gaze  along  the  empty  line  of  vision,  which 
is  unbroken  by  any  ••cottage  in  this  wilder- 
ness'" this  side  of  or  beyond  the  spot  where 
in  anticipation  they  see  the  mound  of  grass 
or  red  mold  that  marks  the  end  of  their  ca- 
reer.   This  is  the  sacrifice  of  itinerants. 

To  preach  for  a  small  salary,  to  live  under 
disadvantages  for  the  education  of  children, 
to  change  residence  often,  and  sometimes 
from  a  healthy  to  an  unhealthy  climate, 
to  be  dependent  upon  unappreeiative  and 
at  times  disagreeable  people  for  a  living 
— these  are  trials  and  things  to  be  borne, 
when  borne  at  all,  for  Christ's  sake;  but 


110     Recreations  of  a  Presiding  Elder. 


all  of  them  have  some  mitigation.  This  oth- 
er has  none. 

The  poorest  laborer  may  rent  his  house, 
and,  while  health  and  industry  last,  may 
keep  possession  of  the  spot  he  has  learned  to 
love  as  home.  By  economy  and  the  aid  of 
building  associations  the  poorest  man  may 
gradually  found  for  himself  a  refuge  that 
shall  have  as  much  permanence  as  the  insta- 
bility of  human  affairs  will  allow.  I  have 
seen  here  and  there,  in  city  and  country, 
those  sweet  little  domestic  nests  in  various 
stages  of  progress — some  lovely  with  the  ac- 
cumulations of  years  and  the  ingenuity  of 
loving  hearts;  some  showing  signs  of  the 
rawness  of  a  new  enterprise,  a  recent  if  hope- 
ful beginning. 

For  the  bulk  of  our  preachers  no  such 
prospect  discloses  itself,  even  to  a  fertile  im- 
agination. And  to  be  homeless;  to  know  that 
never  during  life  will  there  be  a  permanent 
spot,  however  humble,  around  which  may 
cluster  home  affections,  and  on  which  may 
be  lavished  the  outlay  of  hand  and  heart,; 
and  that  after  death  the  loved  ones  who  sur- 
vive us  will  have  no  place  to  take  shelter  in 


The  Itinerant's  Sacrifice.  Ill 


from  the  clouds  of  bereavement  and  the 
storms  of  adversity — this  is  hard  to  bear.  To 
enter  upon  such  a  life  is  to  make,  humanly 
speaking,  a  great  sacrifice. 

No  wonder,  one  may  think,  that  it  had  its 
conception  in  the  brain  of  a  man  to  whom 
flight  from  his  wife  was  a  relief  (being  sepa- 
ration from  a  woman  who  "rendered  twenty 
years  of  his  life  as  uncomfortable  as  a  life 
spent  in  continual  locomotion  could  be"), 
and  w^as  especially  cherished  and  maintained 
by  a  race  of  bachelors  and  widowers  like  As- 
bury. 

Nevertheless,  the  early  itinerants  were 
heroes,  and  the  system  itself  has  points  of 
power  and  value  and  capabilities  which  have 
wrought  wonders  and  given  it  a  durability 
and  vitality  which  so  far  mock  the  prophe- 
cies of  decay  made  by  Isaac  Taylor  and  oth- 
ers like  him. 

Let  us  of  this  later  generation,  who  see 
and  feel  its  weak  point,  ponder  what  reme- 
dy may  be  discovered  to  heal  that  deadly 
hurt.  Several  things  occur  to  me  as  desir- 
able in  that  view: 

1.  The  erection  forthwith  of  comfortable 


112    Recreations  of  a  Presiding  ' Elder. 


parsonages  in  every  charge.  We  already 
have  many.  This  includes  pleasant  and  suf- 
ficient furnishing.  Thereby,  when  these  are 
everywhere,  the  passing  from  one  to  another 
will  be  like  having  a  warm  and  cordial  wel- 
come to  the  Church's  own  house  on  earth, 
which  is  big  enough  to  hold  all  its  "  servants 
for  Jesus'  sake."  And  do  not  forget  the  pre- 
siding elders.  Three  out  of  ten  districts  have 
parsonages,  and  all  these  were  built  and  in 
large  measure  paid  for  by  the  energy  and 
unceasing  toil  of  the  elders.  As  far  as  the 
Church  at  large  is  concerned,  it  would  seem 
as  if  on  their  motion  aud  by  their  planning 
the  other  seven  will  never  be  built.  But  not 
the  less  should  they  be.  The  Church  is  at 
fault,  and  that  grievously,  not  to  build  them. 

2.  The  building  and  endowment  liberally 
of  a  Preachers1  Home,  where  disabled  men 
and  the  families  of  the  deceased  who  need 
shelter  may  find  it.  My  heart  has  ached 
this  year  for  men  who  are  compelled  to  su- 
perannuate, and  more  for  men  who  ought  to 
retire  but  feel  that  they  cannot,  that  it  means 
the  almshouse  or  a  kindred  fate.  We  have 
rich  men  who  could  turn  this  anguish  into 


The  Itinerant's  Sacrifice.  113 


resignation.  If  they  would,  they  could  buy 
some  sweet,  retired  spot,  and  put  it  in  order 
for  the  reception  of  the  worn-out  man  of  God 
and  his  wife,  or  his  widow  and  the  most  de- 
pendent of  her  children.  The  utter  desola- 
tion of  being  cast  off  or  forgotten,  or  of  eat- 
ing the  bread  of  bitter  dependence,  would  be 
averted. 

When  will  the  thought  of  doing  this  arise 
in  some  mind  capable  of  executing  it?  Are 
the  poor  to  do  all  the  desiring  and  yearning 
after  charitable  works,  and  the  rich  forever 
hold  and  use  the  money  without  one  move- 
ment of  soul  toward  these  good  things? 
Then,  how  fearful  the  curse  of  such  riches ! 
how  deep  the  damnation  of  such  misused 
power  for  good!  "Charge  them  that  are 
rich  in  this  world  that  .  .  .  they  be  rich 
in  good  works."  Some  count  their  wealth 
by  thousands.  For  what  good  works  would 
an  enemy  of  benevolence  "stone  "  them?  A 
few  insignificant  gifts  that  bear  no  propor- 
tion at  all  to  the  income  they  have  had  for 
years  is  all  they  can  exhibit  to  a  God  who 
cannot  be  imposed  upon. 

Meanwhile  the  faithful  itinerant  goes  along 
8 


114    Recreations  of  a  Presiding  Elder. 


to  his  work,  year  after  year  adding  to  a  ''rec- 
ord" that  is  "on  high."  The  Lord  Jesus, 
when  he  "comes  the  second  time  without 
sin  unto  salvation,"  will  give  him  a  "recom- 
pense of  reward." 


The  Itinerant's  Wife. 


115 


No.  18. 

THE  ITINERANT'S  WIFE. 
OULD  a  volume  like  the  "  Sketches'' 
of  Dr.  Lafferty  be  prepared,  of 
which  the  sketches  and  likenesses 
should  be  of  the  wives  of  our  preachers,  and 
not  of  the  preachers  themselves,  it  would  be 
a  more  interesting  volume,  if  not  a  more 
salable  one,  than  that  remarkable  produc- 
tion. It  is  not  their  lot  or  calling  to  "  preach 
the  word  ;"  as  a  general  rule,  preaching  wom- 
en have  not  been  a  success  or  a  blessing 
among  us.  Of  praying  women  we  have  had 
many,  and  wives  of  preachers  among  them, 
whose  life-long  piety  has  left  a  savor  as  of 
"ointment  poured  forth."  But  there  have 
been  many,  neither  preaching  nor  praying  in 
public,  who  have  done  the  less  conspicuous 
but  not  less  necessary  work  of  "  holding  up 
the  hands  "  of  the  Moseses  with  whom  they 
had  united  their  lives.  These  have  consti- 
tuted the  bulk  of  this  class.  Unostentatious 
lives,  "peaceable  and  quiet  lives  in  all  godli- 
ness and  honesty,"  have  been  theirs.  Now 


116    Recreations  of  a  Presiding  Elder. 


and  then,  one  departs  to  the  better  land. 
Some  loving  hand  draws  a  brief  portrait,  and 
her  memory  is  left  with  her  household  and  a 
few  intimate  friends.  There  it  will  be  cher- 
ished, and  "  oft  at  evening  hour"  some  eyes 
will  moisten  and  some  hearts  ache  with  a 
melancholy  heaviness,  as  something  recalls 
the  image  of  the  vanished  face,  the  touch  of 
the  vanished  hand.  What  these  women  have 
been  to  their  husbands  none  will  ever  know 
but  those  who  have  "loved  and  lost."  With 
words  of  cheer,  born  of  the  faith  and  pa- 
tience "  that  inherit  the  promises,"  they  have 
strengthened  the  fainting  hearts  of  the  itin- 
erants who  have  been  ready,  like  Elijah,  to 
die  because  they  were  not  better  than  their 
fathers,  and  saw  no  signs  of  redemption  of 
the  Lord's  heritage.  With  wonderful  inge- 
nuity, they  have  supplied  the  lack  of  service 
of  an  unappreciative  Church,  toiling  night 
and  day  to  make  a  small  allowance  support 
a  large  family;  and,  meantime,  not  forgetful 
of  the  poor,  and  ready  for  every  good  word 
and  work.  With  a  gracious  affability,  wor- 
thy of  a  queen,  they  welcome  all  sorts  of 
visitors,  and  try  to  make  all  alike  feel  at  ease 


The  Itinerant's  Wife. 


117 


and  enjoy  themselves  under  the  friendly 
shelter  of  the  parsonage  roof.  Despite  a  load 
of  family  cares,  these  ladies  are  oft  from  ne- 
cessity the  teachers  of  their  own  little  ones, 
and  add  the  labor  of  giving  instruction  to 
the  drudgery  of  household  work.  Like  the 
mother  of  John  Wesley,  it  is  they  who  guide 
the  infant  finger  to  spell  out  "  In  the  begin- 
ning God  created  the  heaven  and  the  earth," 
making  the  Bible  their  text-book  of  letters 
and  religion  from  the  very  first.  Ah!  who 
can  tell  the  price  of  such  women — these  pa- 
tient, believing,  long-sufiering,  pious  "yoke- 
fellows "  of  our  itinerant  oxen?  Is  it  an  evil 
or  a  good  spirit  who  reminds  me  that  all  are 
not  of  this  description  ? 

I  would  fain  throw  a  w7ide  mantle  of  char- 
ity over  the  faults  of  husband  and  wife  alike. 
But  perhaps  a  slight  delineation,  by  wTay  of 
allusion,  may  be  as  a  looking-glass  to  show 
errors  that  may  yet  be  corrected. 

Such  a  wife  as  I  have  depicted  is  not  an 
extravagant  woman,  to  run  her  husband  into 
wasteful  expenditures  which  embarrass  him 
greatly  and  ultimately  endanger  his  very  sal- 
vation ;  nor  a  lover  of  gossip,  having  a  tongue 


118    Recreations  of  a  Presiding  Elder. 


(if  not  a  finger)  in  all  neighborhood  scandal 
and  petty  quarrels;  nor  a  cherisher  of  dubi- 
ous acquaintances  and  fellowships  involving 
her  husband's  good  name  if  not  her  own; 
nor  a  "  swift  witness"  against  all  whom  she 
classes,  justly  or  unjustly,  as  unfriendly  to 
her  husband  or  children,  ready  to  denounce 
in  language  not  measured  and  to  condemn 
with  judgment  not  righteous;  nor  a  woman 
of  coarse  tastes  and  rough  manners,  assum- 
ing to  claim  in  her  husband's  name  what  she 
thinks  he  is  too  mealy-mouthed  to  demand 
for  her  or  himself,  and  in  that  style  bullying 
stewards  and  other  church  officers;  nor  a 
proud,  haughty,  high-minded  (in  the  offen- 
sive sense  of  Romans  xii.  16)  woman,  who  is 
always  afraid  that  she  may  associate  with 
some  persons  or  families  not  her  equals  in 
refinement,  education,  or  intelligence,  and 
who  repels  the  diffident  by  her  loftiness,  and 
the  warm-hearted  by  her  frigid  demeanor. 
Better  than  any  of  these  that  an  itiner- 
ant's wife  should  be  an  insignificant  cipher, 
counting  zero  in  life's  great  calculations,  a 
sweet-faced  simpleton,  gentle  as  a  pet  dog, 
and  useless  as  a  canary  that  will  not  sing. 


The  Itinerant's  Wife. 


119 


She  will  "  break  no  books  if  she  cateh  no 
fish." 

I  am  proud  to  believe,  from  a  wide  ac- 
quaintance with  them,  that  a  nobler  body  of 
women  than  the  wives  of  our  Virginia  itin- 
erants would  be  hard  to  find.  Not  a  few  of 
them  are  rare  combinations  of  the  best  qual- 
ities of  mind  and  heart;  some  of  them  would 
adorn  any  sphere  of  life.  Many  are  "  pat- 
terns of  good  works;"  many  are,  by  their 
grace  of  manner,  their  charm  of  character, 
their  tact  and  good  taste,  such  aids  to  their 
husbands  as  make  those  better  halves  count 
for  double,  and  more  than  double,  what  they 
would  be  alone. 

I  speak  not  of  beauty  of  face  or  figure,  of 
accomplishments,  of  distinguished  connec- 
tions. All  these  may  be  tributary  to  the  holy 
uses  of  Christ's  Church  and  minsters.  Love- 
liness of  person  joined  to  loveliness  of  char- 
acter, true  refinement  and  the  elegance  in- 
separable from  genuine  cultivation,  sanctified 
by  true  piety,  are  powerful  instrumentalities 
for  doing  good.  God  bless  our  preachers 
and  their  families!  God  comfort  the  be- 
reaved who  in  loneliness  travel  the  road  of 


120     Recreations  of  a  Presiding  Elder. 


toil  and  self-denial  once  made  bright  by  the 
presence  of  an  "angel  of  the  household!" 
The  Lord  strengthen  the  hearts  of  our  true 
and  faithful  ones,  who  have  "left  all"  for 
Jesus'  sake  and  their  husbands! 


The  Old  North  State. 


121 


No.  19. 

THE  OLD  NORTH  STATE. 
N  unexpected  turn  of  events  re- 
cently carried  me  out  of  my  dis- 
trict and  State,  and  left  me  for 
some  days,  including  a  Sunday,  in  North 
Carolina.  I  was  once  a  citizen  of  that  noble 
old  State;  many  sweet  and  precious  memo- 
ries cling  around  those  years:  the  vexations 
and  misunderstandings  of  life,  thank  God, 
are  measurably  forgotten,  and  only  a  little 
sediment  of  disturbance  marks  their  position 
on  the  chart  of  by-gone  years.  The  good 
and  the  pleasant  are  more  durable.  They 
grapple  to  my  heart-strings  yet.  Over  the 
curve  of  the  under-world  into  which  have 
gone  those  distant  years,  when  I  was  so  much 
younger  and  fresher,  when  my  children  were 
little  ones,  and  coming  life  seemed  to  offer 
many  opportunities  of  happiness  and  useful- 
ness, come  up  to  me  faint  but  soft  murmur- 
ings  of  pleasant  recollections.  The  friends 
of  those  days  people  once  more  the  halls  of 
memory  (many  of  them,  alas!  are  passed  to 


122     Recreations  of  a  Presiding  Elder. 


another  life);  I  wander  as  of  yore  in  the  fields 
and  woods;  the  ordinary  routine  is  bright 
and  bus}^,  and  public  and  extraordinary  days 
are  full  of  excitement.  But  it  is  "  the  clang 
of  the  wooden  shoon,"  in  Molloy's  song. 

And  here  I  am,  in  another  part  of  the 
State,  far  off  from  those  pleasant  walks  of 
"  lang  syne."  And  it  does  not  look  like  the 
land  of  the  holly  and  myrtle,  the  arbutus, 
the  yellow  jasmine,  the  saracenia,  and  pond- 
lily.  The  soil  is  red,  the  mud  deep,  and  the 
hills  swell  and  streams  roll  along  more  like 
my  native  Piedmont,  Virginia.  The  air  is 
softer,  however,  by  far  than  that  which  is 
blowing  from  snow-touched  mountains  and 
along  wind-shaken  heights  of  that  lovely 
region.  The  gardens  will  be  some  weeks 
ahead,  and  out-door  life  be  much  more  prac- 
ticable in  the  spring. 

An  ancient  town,  with  its  ample  lots,  its 
wide  streets,  and  many  elms,  stretches  around 
me.  Gen.  Jackson  (Andrew,  not  Stonewall) 
once  had  a  law-office  here.  I  have  seen  the 
old  building  myself;  but  it  was  removed  in 
1876  to  the  Philadelphia  "-  Centennial."  Not 
a  great  way  off,  that  earlier  "declaration  of 


The  Old  North  State.  123 

independence''  than  Thomas  Jefferson's  was 
made;  the  descendants  of  a  German  and 
Scotch-Irish  immigration  many  years  ago 
are  around,  testifying  by  name  and  appear- 
ance and  manners  to  their  original  deriva- 
tion ;  it  is  not  North-eastern,  but  South-west- 
ern Carolina.  Get  upon  this  iron  track  that 
stretches  away  westward,  and  you  will,  with- 
in one  hundred  miles,  be  climbing  the  grades 
of  that  wonderful  engineering  which  has 
pierced  and  crossed  the  Bine  Ridge;  you  will 
be  gazing  upon  the  highest  peaks  this  side 
of  the  Rocky  Mountains,  and  viewing  land- 
scapes unsurpassed  for  beauty  and  grandeur. 

Here  are  two  mementos  of  heights  yet 
beyond  those,  on  the  border  of  Tennessee, 
which  have  been  given  me:  a  beautiful  cane  of 
rhododendron  (mountain  laurel)  and  a  quartz 
pebble,  flattened  and  round  and  smooth, 
three  inches  wide,  which  was  cut  out  of  a 
deer's  stomach,  killed  near  a  watering-place. 
Doubtless  the  animal  swallowed  it  imbedded 
in  a  mass  of  the  soft  green  moss  they  eat  in 
hard  weather.  lie  "bit  off  more  than  he 
could  chew,"  and  so  bolted  his  meal,  and 
seemed  to  suffer  no  more  from  his  indigesti- 


124    Recreations  of  a  Presiding  Elder. 


ble  food  than  the  English  sailor  who,  it  is  re- 
ported, "  swallowed  sixteen  jack-knives." 

But  I  am  wandering — not  in  a  land  of  fa- 
ble; except,  it  may  be,  as  to  those  "jack- 
knives  ;  "  for  them  I  am  not  responsible  ;  that 
case  is  in  the  medical  reports. 

I  have  not  been  long  domiciled  when  I  am 
visited  by  that  excellent  Christian  gentleman 
Dr.  Black,  presiding  elder  of  the  district, 
and  Brother  Wheeler,  preacher  in  charge, 
and  booked  for  a  sermon  Sunday  morning. 
At  night  I  preach  for  my  friend  Dr.  Rumple, 
of  the  Presb}^terian  church.  The  Methodists 
have  enlarged  and  improved  their  church. 
They  have  a  pipe  organ,  well  played,  and  a 
good  quartet  choir,  who  sing  well  and  lead 
the  people  in  plain  tunes  for  the  regular 
hymns.  But  the  congregation  did  not  sing 
very  much.  I  prefer  good  singing  by  a  choir, 
however  small,  to  bad  singing  by  a  congre- 
gation ;  the  larger  the  worse,  if  the  singing 
be  bad.  But  we  need  not  have  either  ex- 
treme. Our  people  are  to  blame  when  they 
do  not  study  and  try  to  sing  well,  and  seek 
to  be  instructed  and  practice  so  as  to  swell 
the  volume  of  singing  in  the  church  without 


The  Old  North  State. 


125 


missing  the  time  or  uttering  discord.  Ko 
choir  shall  "do  my  singing,"  though  I  shall 
he  very  thankful  to  have  the  leading  and 
guidance  which  a  good  one  furnishes;  and 
will  be  careful  to  follow  them  and  not  tort- 
ure their  souls  by  incorrect  notes  or  untime- 
ly movements. 

The  Baptists  have  at  length  erected  a 
church  here;  they  are  still  feeble  in  numbers 
and  financial  ability.  But  they  and  the 
Methodists — the  denominations  which  reach 
the  masses — grow  and  spread,  while  the 
Episcopalians  remain  about  the  same,  or  die 
out  in  the  rural  districts,  and  the  Presbyteri- 
ans, once  overwhelmingly  predominant  in 
this  country,  staud  still,  and  though  gener- 
ally strong  make  no  advance. 

The  railroads  have  changed  the  centers  of 
population  in  this  region  somewhat.  Where 
several  meet  population  increases.  Thus 
Greensboro  has  grown  to  six  thousand  per- 
haps, and  Charlotte,  which  was  smaller  than 
Salisbury  thirty-five  years  ago,  has  ten  thou- 
sand, and  is  the  livest  town  in  the  State.  The 
mountain  towns  are  growing — Morganton, 
Asheville,  etc.    A  vast  development  has  be- 


126     Recreations  of  a  Presiding  Elder. 


gun,  and  in  due  time  the  mineral  riches  of  the 
great  Blue  Ridge  and  Alleghany  section  will 
be  fully  opened,  and  its  vast  capabilities  as  a 
grazing,  agricultural,  and  manufacturing  re- 
gion made  known.  It  is  no  exaggeration  to 
say  that  Piedmont  and  South-west  Virginia, 
West  Virginia,  and  Western  North  Carolina 
have  enough  in  them  to  sustain  and  employ  a 
population  equal  to  that  of  Great  Britain.  A 
long  time  hence,  when  this  scribe  and  his  con- 
temporaries are  in  their  graves  and  forgot- 
ten, as  great  a  transformation  will  have  come 
over  these  sections  as  would  be  palpable  to 
a  hero  of  King's  Mountain  or  Cowpens  could 
he  come  up  out  of  his  grave  and  see  and  un- 
derstand things  of  our  day. 

Gold  mining  has  been  carried  on  in  South- 
western Carolina  for  many  years ;  it  has  usu- 
ally proved  a  losing  business  to  the  last  hold- 
ers. A  very  rich  discovery  has  been  lately 
made,  it  is  said,  near  Salisbury ;  the  owner  is 
not  working,  but  trying  to  sell,  but  capital- 
ists are  shy. 


Gloomy  Weather.  127 


No.  20. 

GLOOMY  WEATHER. 
T  rains  and  it  rains.  Somewhere 
among  the  English-speaking  peo- 
ple the  expression  obtains,  "  It 
rains  cats  and  dogs."  The  precise  origin  of 
this  is  unknown  to  me;  doubtless  the  mean- 
ing is  a  very  unusual  shower — as  unusual  as 
if  it  were  "  pitchforks,"  or  the  members  of 
the  animal  family  last  named.  But,  how- 
ever droll  this  phraseology,  I  am  sure  of  this, 
that  if  it  had  ever  rained  "  cats  and  dogs," 
they  would  have  "  descended  "  in  the  fallings 
of  this  "spell."  In  my  district  we  have  had 
varieties  of  thin  snow,  sleet,  and  thunder  and 
lightning,  but  no  "  Tom"  or  "Bowser"  has 
"  come  down,"  although  a  good  many  of 
both  have  probably  "  gone  up,"  succumbing 
to  the  ills  which  cold  and  wet  bring  upon  the 
feline  and  canine  race. 

Many  have  been  the  interruptions  of  di- 
vine service  ;  few  have  been  the  full  and 
crowded  houses.  Even  in  town  there  has 
been  decline.   Many  appointments  have  fall- 


128    Recreations  of  a  Presiding  Elder. 


en  through,  and  the  list  of  sermons  preached 
has  been  considerably  shorter  than  it  was 
last  year.  More  hours,  however,  for  reading 
and  thinking.  Nature  has  felt  the  inclem- 
ent weather  in  all  the  departments  of  growth 
and  floral  beauty.  The  gentle  approaches  of 
spring  have  been  imperceptible.  The  im- 
prudent bud  or  blossom  that  has  ventured 
out  to  "breathe  forth  incense  like  a  prayer" 
has  had  an  untimely  nipping;  the  green 
edgings  and  little  patches  under  the  fences 
and  hedge-rows  have  been  narrow  and  some- 
times singed  in  appearance;  the  trees  and 
fields  have  worn  a  wintry  look,  and  preached 
sermons  on  death  rather  than  resurrection. 
The  unkept  and  unsheltered  forest  nurseries 
have  furnished  scarcely  a  blossom;  an  early 
and  diminutive  pansy,  a  dandelion  here  and 
there  on  warm  slopes,  has  rewarded  a  patient 
search.  Hyacinths  and  crocuses  have  bloomed 
in  open  yards,  and  jonquils  and  the  like,  but 
by  much  help  and  protection  and  somewhat 
scantily.  I  have  been  longing  to  get  within 
reach  of  my  favorite  wild  flowers — to  tickle 
thehepatica  leaves,  and  turn  over  the  stems 
of  trailing  arbutus,  and  see  if  the  adder's 


Gloomy  Weather. 


129 


tongue  has  shot  up  out  of  the  ground  and 
pierced  the  dead  leaves  through  with  the  dart 
of  his  pointed  leaf.  But,  perhaps,  if  allowed, 
I  would  have  been  searching,  in  this  late 
season,  in  vain  for  bloom.  Vegetation  has 
been  wearing  Charles  Y.'s  early  motto,  uNon- 
dum." 

These  gloomy  days — with  the  light  of  the 
sun  darkened,  and  every  thing  dripping  about 
us,  confining  us  to  our  houses  a  great  deal, 
and  so  narrowing  the  area  of  our  activities 
and  enjoyments — are  they  not  symbolical  of 
certain  seasons  of  our  religious  life?  Says 
the  poet  Longfellow: 

Into  each  life  some  rain  must  fall ; 
Some  days  must  be  dark  and  dreary. 

And  if  this  be  true  as  to  the  mixture  of  good 
and  evil,  of  sorrow  and  joy,  in  common  life, 
it  is  doubtless  ordinarilv  true  as  to  the  lisrht 
and  shade  of  spiritual  life.  Some  souls  may 
attain  a  state  of  unbroken  delight  and  satis- 
faction, but  for  the  great  majority  there  are 
decided  fluctuations.  I  believe  very  decided- 
ly that  all  may  attain  a  serene  and  settled 
faith  and  love,  ready  for  every  trial  and  vic- 
torious over  sin  and  the  world,  but  with  these 
9 


130    Recreations  of  a  Presiding  Elder. 


some  days  will  be  balmy  as  May  and  bright 
as  June,  and  others  cold  and  dark  as  Decem- 
ber. Outward  circumstances  will  change, 
and  require  adjustments  of  faith  and  hope 
and  love  and  patience  to  meet  them;  and  be- 
fore these  become  habitual  and  settled  the 
new  aspect  of  affairs  will  be  chilly  and 
gloomy.  "The  clouds"  will  "return  after 
the  rain,"  a  momentary  glimpse  of  fairer  sky 
be  succeeded  by  thicker  screens  of  vapor  and 
heavier  down-pourings. 

The  rainy  season  has  its  meteorological 
justification;  it  is  necessary  and  in  the  end 
beneficial  to  climate  and  agriculture.  And 
so  of  our  spiritual  dark  clays.  They  have 
their  uses.  Being  such  as  we  are,  we  need 
them.  As  nobody  sighs  for  a  country  on 
earth  where  it  never  rains,  but  where  sun- 
shine is  a  perpetual  burning  glare,  so  no- 
body wants  this  life  to  be  unalloyed — unless, 
indeed,  the  unbeliever  in  another  life.  The 
Christian  is  simply  led  by  his  saddened  ex- 
periences to  long  and  pray: 

"Take  me  to  Thee  up  on  high, 
Where  winter  and  clouds  are  no  more." 

"  There  everlasting  spring  abides."   It  is  the 


Gloomy  Weather.  131 


only  country  that  could  stand  that  state  of 
things.  When  we  are  gone  to  "  the  land  of 
the  leal,"  where  sin  is  banished  and  God 
reigns  in  a  kingdom  that  cannot  be  moved, 
we  shall  be  able  to  do  without  the  discipline 
of  chastening  and  clouds  and  dark  days. 
Till  then,  let  it  rain  on  according  to  His  will 
who  guides  the  clouds  in  the  natural  and  re- 
ligious atmosphere. 

.  .  .  Moist  and  heat  and  dry 

Shall  foster  and  mature  the  grain 
For  garners  in  the  sky. 


132    Recreations  of  a  Presiding  Elder. 


No.  21. 
SYSTEMATIC  MEN. 

HE  winter  is  past  and  gone;  the 
time  of  flowers  and  song-birds  is 
come.  The  gloomy  weather  has 
ceased;  some  weeks  of  comparative  dryness 
and  warmth  have  rejoiced  the  soul  of  the 
husbandmen  and  made  the  roads  quite  prac- 
ticable, which  had  before  been  well-nigh  im- 
passable. 

The  energetic  itinerants,  baffled  hitherto, 
but  not  defeated  or  discouraged,  will  begin 
afresh,  and  with  good-will,  and  hopefulness, 
their  partially  suspended  and  oft  interrupt- 
ed work.  Every  church  will  put  forth 
buds  of  promise,  and  all  over  the  district 
there  will  be  smiling  faces  and  hopeful 
hearts. 

I  risk  nothing  in  prophesying  that  a  cer- 
tain class  of  men  among  the  preachers  and 
church  officers  will  at  once  take  the  start  and 
keep  it.  These  are  the  systematic  men;  the 
men  who  do  not  work  at  hap-hazard,  but 
plan  what  they  haw  to  do,  and  habitually 


Systematic  Men. 


133 


keep  an  orderly  account  of  all  their  transac- 
tions and  the  results  of  them. 

Generally,  the  man  of  system  manifests 
his  propensity  in  every  direction.  He  has 
lists  and  memorandum-book,  and  knows 
where  every  thing  is  and  what  everybody  un- 
der his  control  is  doing.  I  have  often  been 
half  amused,  half  provoked,  at  the  jumble 
which  unsystematic  men  make  of  the  mate- 
rials of  their  labor.  They  lose  an  immense 
amount  of  time  looking  for  things.  Nothing 
is  ever  exactly  at  hand  ;  it  has  to  be  searched 
for  just  when  required,  and  is  hardly  ever 
promptly  found.  Not  so  with  the  systematic 
man.  He  can  put  his  finger  on  whatever  he 
needs,  at  a  moment's  notice;  has  considered 
the  matter  in  advance,  planned  how  to  man- 
age it  when  the  time  should  come,  and  is  not 
bewildered  or  flurried  by  the  demand.  lie 
does  not  always  succeed  to  the  full  degree  of 
his  purposes  and  hopes;  but  he  has  some  re- 
source counted  upon  and  laid  by,  and  disap- 
pointment is  never  with  him  utterly  blight- 
ing, nor  failure  overwhelming  and  complete. 
I  have  met  with  men  that  ran  system  to 
seed,  and,  like  the  tithers  of  "mint,  anise, 


134     Recreations  of  a  Presiding  Elder. 


cummin,  and  rue in  our  Lord's  day,  made 
more  of  their  tables  of  "small  things "  and 
their  picayune  lists  and  memoranda  than  of 
important  events  and  momentous  occasions. 
One  of  these  fellows,  with  his  inch-rule  and 
petty  measurements  of  flies'  feet  and  moths' 
eyes,  is  a  pest.  But  he  is  not  so  bad  as  a 
man  that  never  has  any  thing  in  place,  knows 
nothing  with  exactness,  has  no  fixed  arrange- 
ments, and  catches  up  whatever  comes  near- 
est to  him  at  the  time  of  action. 

Systematic  men  are  a  comfort  to  the  pre- 
siding elder  at  Quarterly  and  District  Con- 
ferences. They  are  in  place,  and  the  entries 
in  reply  to  "  Minute  Questions"  and  the  like, 
which  depend  on  them,  are  made  exhaustive- 
ly and  quickly.  The  bearing  of  their  regu- 
lar habits  upon  study  and  pastoral  visiting 
must  be  evident  to  any  reflecting  mind.  By 
means  of  these,  a  man  of  ordinary  ability 
may  far  surpass  in  usefulness,  and  even  in 
acceptableness,  a  brilliant  but  irregular  work- 
man. The  simple  element  of  reliableness 
makes  all  the  difference.  It  is  also  another 
illustration  of  the  hare  and  tortoise  race. 
When  system  is  combined  with  great  ener- 


Systematic  Men.  135 


gy  and  uncommon  gifts,  the  amount  of  work 
that  can  be  put  forth  by  a  human  being  is 
utterly  amazing.  The  last  work,  a  posthu- 
mous one,  of  the  late  J.  R.  Green,  author  of 
the  "  History  of  the  People  of  England,"  ap- 
pears, from  its  preface,  to  have  been  wrought 
out  by  the  dying  struggles  of  a  man  whose 
systematic  habits  of  study  and  work,  by  his 
wife's  noble  assistance,  prevailed  to  produce 
one  more  monument  of  his  historical  genius, 
despite  the  prostration,  pain,  and  nervous- 
ness of  a  fatal  and  rapidly  progressing  dis- 
ease. Enthusiasm  was  a  tremendous  force 
in  his  case,  but  it  is  evident  that  it  would 
have  amounted  to  little  but  for  long-formed 
habits  of  systematic  collecting,  noting,  and 
digesting  of  the  materials  he  would  have  to 
employ.  Little  can  be  done  to  cure  elderly 
men  of  a  want  of  system  ;  it  is  like  44  putting 
new  wine  into  old  wine-skins;  "  they  would 
not  bear  it.  But  the  young  man,  especially 
the  young  preacher,  the  novice  in  our  min- 
istry, may  hear  a  word  of  exhortation  on  the 
subject  with  profit.  Perhaps  he  already  has 
begun  in  the  right  way.  Let  nothing  turn 
you  out  of  it.    Beware  of  contracting  slov- 


136    Recreations  of  a  Presiding  Elder. 


enly  and  irregular  habits  as  you  grow  older. 
Keep  your  books  and  papers  in  an  orderly 
and  careful  manner.  If  you  cannot  "  do  ev- 
ery thing  by  rule,"  have  a  clear  and  well-di- 
gested system  of  doing,  by  which  you  will 
know  very  well,  at  the  beginning  of  every 
day,  what  you  are  going  to  attempt,  and  how 
it  is  to  be  done.  Do  not  despise  small  mat- 
ters; keep  an  eye  on  details,  and  be  ready  to 
make  use  of  them  when  necessary.  Exact- 
ness and  precision,  when  not  unduly  pro- 
moted to  the  place  of  even  better  things,  are 
excellent,  and  often  gain  a  victory  where 
vagueness  and  uncertainty  would  amount  to 
nothing.  Some  men  have  built  a  considera- 
ble reputation  upon  a  high  degree  of  these ; 
and  many  a  preacher  has  lost  position  and 
become  a  "wet  log"  because  he  was  of  no 
value  except  when  discoursing  of  abstract 
questions  and  principles  of  the  most  general 
kind  in  the  pulpit.  He  could  not  descend  to 
statistics,  collections,  common-sense  details; 
and  was  hedged  out  in  all  directions  by  the 
cry,  "  We  want  a  practical  and  systematic 
preacher!" 


Machinery  in  the  Church. 


187 


No.  22. 

MACHINERY  IN  THE  CHURCH. 

HE  age  is  mechanical.  Inventions 
are  past  numbering,  and  in  noth- 
ing has  the  active  Anglo-American 
mind  been  more  restlessly  and  successfully 
employed  than  in  the  devising  of  means  by 
which  labor  may  be  saved  and  the  work  of 
many  men  done  by  a  few,  and  better  done 
than  ever.  To  some  extent  the  same  spirit 
has  entered  into  ecclesiastical  affairs,  and 
there,  too,  u  sought  out  many  inventions." 
The  homely  machinery  of  our  fathers  has 
given  place  to  "  forty-horse  power  "  agencies 
and  boards.  The  horseback  corps  of  Bish- 
ops, presiding  elders,  and  circuit-riders,  with 
an  annually-appearing  "  book  steward,"  and, 
after  some  time,  the  "  college  agent,"  here 
and  there,  has  been  succeeded  by  a  "  college  " 
of  Bishops,  Book  Agents,  and  Missionary 
Secretaries,  and  officers,  and  "  boards,"  not 
innumerable  by  any  means,  but  increasingly 
numerous. 

Is  it  not  possible  that  the  matter  is  over- 


138     Recreations  of  a  Presiding  Elder. 


done?  Every  thing  at  "  head -quarters  "  is 
done  by  a  "  board,"  or  its  equivalent — which 
is  all  very  well;  but  it  seems  to  me  that 
when  in  the  Annual  Conference,  besides  our 
finance  board,  our  standing  committees  have 
been  organized  into  "boards,"  and  Sunday- 
schools  and  education,  as  well  as  missions 
and  Church  extension,  must  be  put  into 
"boards,"  the  thing  is  getting  rather  stiff. 
The  review  of  such  subjects  at  the  Annual 
Conference  is  necessarily  brief  and  springing 
out  of  the  occasion,  and  the  attempt  to  im- 
part a  durability  to  these  organizations  by 
appointing  them,  so  as  to  hold,  over  proved,  in 
our  Conference,  a  complete  failure  the  very 
first  year.  But  by  law  we  have  the  name  of 
"board"  riveted  upon  what  is  in  every  re- 
spect a  committee,  and  which  was  as  service- 
able by  that  form  and  name. 

What  may  grow  into  a  great  mischief  has 
been  doubtless  little  considered  in  this  mat- 
ter. I  refer  to  the  tendency  in  all  such  organ- 
izations to  take  on  more  or  less  of  the  "  close 
corporation"  spirit.  It  is  an  easy  growth  in 
them  to  assume  entire  and  exclusive  custody  of 
the  subjects  embracer]  In  their  charge,  and 


Machinery  in  the  Church.  139 


to  work  toward  turning  the  Annual  Con- 
ferences into  mere  instruments  for  registering 
their  acts.  This  is  increased  by  the  manage- 
ment of  our  time  in  our  annual  session. 
When  we  have^a  "  statistical  Bishop,"  who 
requests  preachers  to  read  their  reports  made 
to  the  Joint  Board  of  Finance  and  the  Con- 
ference Secretary,  and  duly  published  in  ex- 
tenso  in  the  Minutes  (the  readers  of  which 
are  the  only  people  who  pay  the  slightest 
attention  to  them  elsewhere),  the  time  is  so 
taken  up  with  that  dreary  performance,  and 
the  vain  attempts  to  keep  order  during  an  ex- 
ercise in  which  nobody  but  the  Bishop  can 
affect  to  be  interested,  that,  with  the  una- 
voidable routine  business,  the  days  slip  away, 
and  u  the  heel''  of  the  session  appears  ere 
anybody  outside  of  the  numerous  "  boards  " 
has  considered  or  discussed  any  points  not 
comparatively  trivial.  Then,  when  but  a  day 
or  two  remain  to  weigh  and  digest  the  in- 
formation and  suggested  action  upon  the 
subjects  of  Finance,  Sunday-schools,  Mis- 
sions, Publishing,  and  Education,  communi- 
cated in  the  reports  from  boards  and  commit- 
tees, things  are  driven  ahead  under  whip  and 


140    Recreations  of  a  Presiding  Elder. 


spur,  with  the  aid  of  a  large  body  of  dispir- 
ited preachers,  worn  out  by  lengths  of  noth- 
ings which  have  deployed  before  them  in 
almost  interminable  succession  day  by  day; 
and,  as  happened  at  one  of  our  Conferences, 
a  long  report  on  one  of  the#most  important 
subjects,  containing  recommendation  of  very 
questionable  action,  is  put  upon  its  passage, 
without  an  explanation  or  a  single  effort  to 
look  at  the  difficulties  involved.  And  when 
the  President  of  the  Conference  is  not  an  un- 
conscious time- waster,  the  body  itself  allows 
the  most  important  boards  and  committees 
to  delay  to  the  last  moment.  It  would  be 
well  for  every  committee  and  board  to  re- 
port, unless  on  some  small  matter  of  detail, 
on  Monday,  and  some  on  Saturday,  that  there 
may  be  full  consideration  in  Conference.  The 
contrary  practice  results  in  increasing  rest- 
lessness on  the  part  of  boards  at  having  their 
views  objected  to,  and  to  criticisms  after  Con- 
ference, which  generally  lead  to  irritating 
controversies  and  prolonged  misunderstand- 
ings. In  a  session  of  seven  or  eight  days,  at 
least  three  or  four  should  be  devoted  to  calm 
and  thorough  ventilation  of  these  reports. 


Machinery  in  the  Church.  141 


But  some  sa}r,  "  Of  what  value  is  discus- 
sion? We  do  not  need  talk.  The  board  con- 
siders the  subject,  and  its  action  and  report 
need  no  prolonged  talk  about  the  subject." 
Discussion  need  not  be  mere  talk.  In  a  de- 
liberative body  it  should  be  short  and  direct. 
It  is  comparison  of  many  opinions  that  settles 
the  mind  of  such  a  body.  And  how  oft  it 
occurs  that  a  paper,  which  seemed  faultless 
and  exact  and  well-conceived,  is  found  to  be 
very  defective  when  some  sharp-sighted  mem- 
ber goes  to  searching  it.  Under  his  dissect- 
ing-knife,  what  looked  sound  enough  shows 
some  ugly  spots.  And  again,  a  plausible  ob- 
jection is  overthrown  by  discussion,  and  the 
approval  of  the  paper,  shaken  at  first,  be- 
comes clear  and  undoubted.  Open  and  free 
discussion  is  fatal  to  the  spirit  of  dictation — 
which  insensibly  forms  in  certain  minds  and 
around  certain  bodies — and  widens  the  field 
of  view  for  every  member  of  the  Conference, 
except  in  the  case  of  one  who  is  so  self-con- 
ceited as  to  suppose  that  nothing  can  be  add- 
ed to  his  knowledge  or  his  wisdom. 

The  increase  of  machinery,  more  especially 
apparent  at  our  Annual  Conferences,  has 


142     Recreations  of  a  Presiding  Elder. 


been  progressively  impairing  the  devoulness 
of  those  assemblies.  It  was  no  idle  word 
when  our  fathers  proposed  to  "  do  everything 
as  in  the  immediate  presence  of  God."  And 
the  religious  services  were  unusually  fervent 
and  edifying.  At  some  of  the  earlier  Con- 
ferences, attended  by  even  so  young  a  mem- 
ber as  myself,  there  was  a  morning  prayer- 
meeting  of  a  half-hour  or  so  on  first  meet- 
ing. Now  there  are  anniversaries  and  meet- 
ings "in  the  interest  of"  this  or  that,  until 
preaching,  save  on  Sunday,  "  hides  its  dimin- 
ished head  "  at  all  the  chief  churches.  And 
the  concourse  of  strangers,  representing  this 
"  board"  and  that,  men  necessarily  full  of 
their  particular  business,  gives  a  hue  of  spe- 
cialties to  our  general  proceedings,  by  which 
we  approach  nearer  and  nearer  to  the  idea 
of  a  Baptist  Association,  and  depart  more 
and  more  from  that  of  a  Methodist  Confer- 
ence of  traveling  preachers. 

But  I  have  gossiped  long  enough  on  this 
head.  This  lovely  morning,  following  three 
or  four  gloomy  days,  has  made  me  garrulous 
like  the  birds,  who  are  telling  each  other  in 
tree  and  shrubbery  what  they  think  of  mat- 


Machinery  in  the  Church,  143 


ters  and  things.  Specially  is  that  fussy  little 
rascal,  the  English  sparrow,  uttering  his 
sharp  chirp.  He  is  a  new  "hoard"  in  the 
department  of  ornithology  that  is  an  inva- 
sion of  old  customs  and  a  multiplier  of  mis- 
chief. Why,  will  you  believe  it,  gentle  read- 
er, I  saw  the  other  day,  in  the  Capitol  Square 
at  Richmond,  that  he  had  built  a  nest  or  two 
in  Thomas  Jefferson's  vest-pocket,  and  had 
been  trying  to  get  inside  of  the  roll  of  the 
Declaration  of  Independence?  I  would  like 
his  report  to  be  discussed  by  a  numerous 
conference  of  sparrow-hawks  and  butcher- 
birds. 


144     Recreations  of  a  Presiding  Elder. 


No.  23. 
MUSIC  IN  OLDEN  DAYS. 
ALKINGr  the  other  clay  through 
the  old  "Methodist  Cemetery,''  as 
it  was  called  when  I  was  a  boy, 
which  lies  near  the  head  of  Fifth  street,  in 
Lynchburg,  Va.,  I  saw  a  marble  slab  erected 
to  the  memory  of  "Blind  Billy,"  the  negro 
fife-player,  whom  all  older  Lynchburgers 
recollect.  What  a  train  of  thought  started  on 
sight  of  that  simple  inscription  !  The  blind 
fifer,  as  I  often  saw  him,  rose  to  my  inward 
sight  marching  on  the  street,  orat  the  "gen- 
eral musters"  of  the  country  along  the  dusty 
country  roads,  between  two  drummers,  one 
on  each  side,  who,  while  sustaining  with  tre- 
mendous clatter  the  noisy  accompaniment  to 
Billy's  ear-piercing  instrument,  served  the 
purpose  of  guides  to  him  also.  Lost  to  all 
save  the  music  which  rushed  in  waves  of 
rapture  through  his  brain,  his  sightless  eyes 
upturned  and  the  face  expressive  of  complete 
transport,  he  played  for  hours  and  marched 
and  countermarched,  or,  when  he  halted, 


Music  in  Olden  Days.  145 

beat  time  with  his  foot  while  the  unsophisti- 
cated natives  heard  the  "  Soldier's  Joy," 
"  Gilderoy,"  or  "  White  Cockade,"  "  Barba- 
ra Allen/'  or  "  The  Girl  I  Left  Behind  Me," 
played  with  a  spirit  and  expression  never  ex- 
celled. The  sound  of  that  fife  seemed  to  get 
into  the  air  and  go  all  over  the  ground.  It 
made  itself  part  of  those  scenes — as  unfor- 
getable  as  the  uniforms  and  horses  of  the 
militia  regimental  officers  or  the  cake-carts 
and  candy-stands.  The  last  strains  attended 
the  setting  sun,  or  perhaps,  if  Billy  and  his 
drum  comrades  remained  over  night,  the 
plaintive  melodies  I  shall  presently  allude  to 
stole  softly  (though  high  and  piercing)  across 
"the  dewy  steeps  of  air"  from  the  precincts 
of  the  village  inn  to  the  chambers  of  senti- 
mental and  solitary  listeners.  These  tunes 
were  often  est  heard,  however,  to  perfection 
at  night  in  Lynchburg  itself.  Somewhere  on 
the  street,  at  some  shop  where  he  was  re- 
garded as  an  acquisition,  or  feed  to  come 
regularly,  he  was  standing  at  some  aperture, 
and  for  rove  of  music  more  than  any  other 
motive  discoursing  on  his  beloved  fife 
strains  "in  sweetness  to  outlast  the  morn." 
10 


146     Recreations  of  a  Presiding  Elder. 


I  remember  particularly  two — "  Kathleen 
O'More"  and  "Wandering  Willie."  As 
rendered  by  Billy,  these  melodies  were  en- 
dowed with  a  matchless  pathos.  If  you 
knew  the  poetry,  your  heart  ached  over 
"  poor  little  Kathleen  "  and  her  heart-broken 
lover,  and  the  red-breast  was  more  sacred  in 
your  eyes,  as  in  his,  because  it  loved  the 
church-yard  and  there  "hopped  lightly  o'er 
Kathleen,"  the  lovely  little  creature  conse- 
crated by  an  early  death.  I  have  never  been 
able  to  find  in  print  the  melody  of  "Wan- 
dering Willie  "  he  played.  Where  he  got  it 
of  course  I  have  no  idea;  he  heard  it  first, 
probably,  from  some  wandering  musician,  it 
may  be,  with  bagpipe  or  fiddle.  But  it  is 
lovelier  and  tenderer  far  and  truer  to  the 
words  than  the  airs  I  have  seen  in  "  Scotch 
songs"  of  various  collections.  I  suspect  it 
is  older,  and  like  the  ballads  of  the"  border" 
traveled  to  this  side  of  the  Atlantic  by  tra- 
dition. Had  that  wandering  lover,  afloat  on 
the  raging  billows,  heard  Billy's  melody  and 
Burns' s  words  with  it,  treason  and  faithless- 
ness, if  dawning  there,  would  have  fled  from 
his  heart,  fiends  exorcised  by  the  power  of 


Musk  in  Olden  Days.  147 


music;  and  he  would  have  sailed  back  to  "  his 
Dannie"  over  miles  of  main  and  despite  all 
the  storms  of  an  angry  ocean.  Across  the 
gap  of  nearly  forty  years  that  song  comes 
to  my  ear.  It  is  a  bright,  soft  night.  The 
moon  is  full,  and  sheds  its  mild  luster  over 
pavements  and  piles  of  brick  and  stone.  I 
am  in  bed,  but  not  sleepy,  though  a  more  or 
less  tired  boy.  For  "  mine  ear  "  is  "  attent- 
ive "  to  Billy's  fife.  As  thrilling  as  the  notes 
of  that  other  wonderful  natural  musician., 
the  wood-thrush,  the  note  trembles  on  the 
air.  It  is  loud  and  distinct,  yet  not  harsh  or 
obtrusive.  The  tempo  is  instinctively  well 
taken,  the  musician's  soul  is  in  it,  and  no 
money  could  buy  such  fidelity  to  the  idea  of 
the  composer  as  Billy's  love  will  furnish.  As 
I  lie  awake  and  listening,  imagination  takes 
me  captive.  Common  life  drops  out  of  sight. 
I  feel  every  note,  and  wish  he  would  play  till 
day-break.  As  the  pathos  renews  itself  with 
the  oft-repeated  strain,  growing  tenderer  and 
tenderer,  mounting  toward  heaven  in  great- 
er purity  and  power,  I  feel  the  tears  starting 
to  my  eyes.  Just  then  he  stops,  and  like  his 
brother  musician  of  the  wood — is  gone.  Un- 


148     Recreations  of  a  Presiding  Elder. 


like  the  bird,  he  does  not  warble  that  tink- 
ling, pathetic  trill  from  some  greater  distance. 
His  bed-time  has  come,  or  the  shop  is  shut 
up,  and  Billy  will  soon  be  under  the  spell  of 
death's  brother  —  prophetic  of  that  other 
stronger  spell  which  holds  him  now  in  clay 
and  silence.  And,  as  it  is  now,  I  listen  in 
vain,  and  retain  only  the  memory  of  that 
matchless  fife. 


Protracted  Meetings. 


149 


No.  24. 
PROTRACTED  MEETINGS. 


HE  season  for  these  meetings  draws 
nigh.  The  average  Methodists 
think  their  Church  is  about  mined 


without  a  protracted  meeting  annually* 
They  may  have  had  excellent  preaching, 
without  exception,  and  a  great  deal  of  it 
statedly;  the  Sunday-school  may  be  flour- 
ishing, and  the  general  state  of  piety,  judg- 
ing by  the  lives  and  works  of  the  people,  en- 
couraging; but  still  the  successor  of  the  old 
" two-days'  meeting"  must  have  his  chance, 
and  a  week  or  more  with  "  all-day  service  " 
must  be  spent  in  preaching  to  the  unconvert- 
ed. Much  of  this  amounts  to  but  little; 
there  is  "  'twixt  promise  and  performance 
rare  proportion!"  yet  it  is  going  to  be  done, 
and  our  object  is  not  to  prevent  it,  but  to 
make  some  suggestions  which  may  possibly 
improve  the  results. 

The  real  success  of  a  meeting  depends 
much  on  the  preaching;  largely,  doubtless, 
upon  the  prayers  and  fervent  spirit  of  the 


150     Recreations  of  a  Presiding  Elder. 


people,  but  in  these  the  preaching  is  a  large 
and  influential  factor.  In  what  respects, 
then,  would  we  seek  to  improve  the  preach- 
ing? 

1.  Has  it  not  been  hortatory  to  too  large 
an  extent?  It  is  often  said  that  people  un- 
derstand well  enough;  what  they  need  is  to 
be  persuaded  to  act.  "But  this  is  less  true 
than  we  suppose.  Many  will  not  act  because 
their  ideas  are  confused.  There  is  great  need 
of  instruction.  The  great  doctrines  of  re- 
ligion need  to  be  expounded.  The  stock  ar- 
guments against  delay,  the  scriptural  proof 
of  God's  readiness  to  save  now,  the  sermons 
on  quenching  the  Holy  Spirit  and  sinning 
away  grace,  are  somewhat  stale  and  trite. 
But,  handled  with  any  vigor,  the  great  fun- 
damental doctrines  of  Justification,  Regen- 
eration, Repentance,  Witness  of  the  Spirit, 
Holiness,  etc.,  can  never  become  stale.  Let 
us  stir  up  the  gift  of  God  in  us,  and  while 
we  persuade  and  exhort  men  do  it  with  the 
words  of  sound  doctrine.  Let  the  great  num- 
bers v7ho  attend  go  away  wiser  and  more 
thoughtful.  Do  not  be  afraid  that  you  will 
not  create  a  sensation  and  have  a  great  move. 


Protracted  Meetings, 


151 


Some  of  the  grandest  revivals  of  all  times 
were  generated  in  connection  with  powerful, 
thoughtful,  reasoning  preaching. 

2.  Has  it  not  been  too  general?  The  par- 
tridge-hunter soon  learns  that  he  does  little 
execution  by  firing  loosely  "into  the  covey." 
He  must  single  out  the  bird  and  take  aim 
every  time.  Far  or  near,  he  will  kill  then. 
So  indefinite  talk,  which  spends  itself  upon 
general  propositions  vaguely  applied,  will  not 
find  a  real  mark.  The  idea  is  to  make  some 
hearer  cry  out,  uMy  conscience  felt  and  owned 
the  guilt!"  By  close  and  searching  applica- 
tion a  general  doctrine  can  be  brought  home. 
We  must  beware  of  having  our  congregation 
made  up  of  Betty  Raskellys  (as  Betty  was  at 
first)  who  will  think  we  are  speaking  of 
"  things  that  happened  a  long  time  ago,  about 
people  who  lived  a  long  time  since,  in  a  coun- 
try a  long  way  off."  Make  them  realize  that 
you  mean  them — that  you  believe  they  are 
sinners  and  need  to  repent  at  once.  Draw 
pictures  from  real  life.  Do  not  lampoon,  but 
be  pointed,  direct,  unflattering.  Preach  in 
reproof  of  sins  that  are  committed  and  pop- 
ular in  your  community.    Stir  up  the  whis- 


152     Recreations  of  a  Presiding  Eider. 


ky-seller,  the  Sabbath-breaker,  the  drunkard, 
the  cheat,  the  fornicator,  the  lazy  man.  Be 
prudent,  but  "  cry  aloud  and  spare  not." 

3.  Have  we  not  omitted  to  a  hurtful  ex- 
tent the  custom  of  our  fathers,  of  bringing  in 
allusions  to  experience?  How  interesting  to 
all  classes  of  people,  to  the  unconverted  often, 
are  lively  love-feasts  or  experience-meetings! 
It  is  because  they  are  concrete  religion;  they 
are  specimens  of  the  individual  life — the  act- 
ual warfare  . between  the  flesh  and  the  Spirit. 
It  was  a  good  armory  from  which  to  draw 
weapons  in  the  olden  time — the  experience 
of  the  preachers  themselves.  Let  us  return 
somewmat  to  that  method.  Out  of  your  own 
life  and  that  of  other  men  of  God  illustrate 
the  abstract  truths  of  vital  religion.  Let  the 
people  feel  that  it  is  a  matter  of  common 
daily  life  about  which  we  preach — something 
not  far  off  as  the  Middle  Ages  and  intangi- 
ble as  superstitious  legends,  but  matter  of 
actual  trial  and  proof  with  us  of  to-day. 
Sermons  will  thus  be  fresher,  simpler,  and 
more  effective.  Moody  and  the  other  evan- 
gelists of  Our  day  employ  this  method.  They 
tell  what  happened  at  such  a  place  and  time, 


Protracted  Meetings. 


153 


give  names  and  dates  and  actual  conversa- 
tions. Methodi-st  literature  and  biography 
are  full  of  materials  for  this,  purpose;  and  de- 
spise not  your  own  experience.  An  extract 
from  it  may  be  the  smooth  pebble  from  the 
■brook  that  shall  kill  a  Goliath. 

A  word  about  singing.  To  our  ears  the 
singing  in  our  meetings  often  sounds  tame. 
One  rarely  hears  now — thanks  to  God  for  it ! — 
the  doggerel  choruses  that  in  so  many  places 
disgraced  our  singing  and  brought  our  intel- 
ligence into  question.  Moody  and  Sankey 
have  done  a  great  service  in  killing  off  these. 
May  our  ears  never  again  be  afflicted  with 
"Hail,  hail,  hail!*7  or  "Brethren,  will  you 
meet  me?"  or  "I  have  a  father  (mother, 
brother,  and  innumerable  relations)  in  the 
promised  land !  "  nor  have  the  strong,  nervous 
lines  of  such  a  hymn  as  "Jesus,  my  all,  to 
heaven  is  gone,"  dislocated  by  intervening 
and  uncongenial  scraps,  such  as  "  I  am  bound 
for  the  land  of  Canaan !"  But  there  is  a  tend- 
ency to  drag,  as  if  the  pieces  were  over- 
familiar,  or  were  sung  without  feeling  or 
thought.  Let  us  begin  to  revive  the  great 
Methodist  revival  hymns  ana  the  tunes  with 


154     Recreations  of  a  Presiding  Elder. 


them.  Study  anew  that  part  of  our  hymn- 
book.  The  Methodists  have  always  been  a 
great  singing  people.  Let  us  stand  by  our 
ancient  colors  in  this  respect,  singing  "with 
the  spirit  and  with  the  understanding  also." 


The  Death  of  the  Old. 


165 


No.  25. 

THE  DEATH  OF  THE  OLD. 
ORE  than  six  months  of  the  Con- 
ference year  have  passed,  and  so 
far  only  one  of  our  preachers  has 
fallen — that  noble  veteran,  George  W.  Nol- 
le}^ first  on  our  list  in  length  of  service,  and 
just  on  the  verge  of  four-score.  For  a  num- 
ber of  years  past  our  annual  losses  have  been 
of  men  past  sixty.  The  year  that  slew  Dun- 
can and  Hodges  has  had  no  fellow  since  that 
sad  date.  The  blade  of  the  Great  Reaper 
lately  grazed  another  of  our  older  and  most 
valued  men,  and  made  us  hold  our  breath 
for  days  together  till  we  heard  the  steps  of 
the  destroyer  die  away  in  the  distance.  And 
we  have  a  list  of  aged  men  lingering  among 
us  yet,  dear  and  honored,  bound  to  us  by  the 
associations  and  labors  of  many  years.  The 
heats  of  summer,  the  malarial  vapors  of 
autumn,  the  chilling  winds  of  incipient  win- 
ter, are  yet  to  be  passed  by  them  ere  our  next 
assemblage  in  Virginia's  "  Hill  City."  Will 
another  of  these  faithful  men  of  God,  full  of 


156     Recreations  of  a  Presiding  Elder. 


years  and  labors,  be  taken  from  us  ?  or  will  the 
old  Ashland  hero  sleep  alone  as  the  harvest 
of  death  among  us  this  year? 

Such  questions  passing  through  my  mind 
have  recalled  a  passage,  perhaps  forgotten  by 
its  author  in  the  distinguished  and  impor- 
tant work  of  his  pen  in  later  years,  which 
accidentally  fell  under  my  eye  some  time 
since  and  was  preserved.  For  beauty  of 
thought  and  elegance  of  diction  it  is  worthy 
of  a  place  among  gems  of  our  language. 

More  than  twenty  years  ago,  in  the  obitu- 
ary of  an  aged  citizen,  Dr.  J.  C.  Southall 
(now  of  the  Central  Presbyterian),  then  an 
editor  in  Charlottesville,  wrote  as  follows: 

"The  death  of  the  young  is  perhaps  the 
more  startling;  but,  to  the  contemplative 
mind,  the  death  of  the  aged,  the  disappear- 
ance of  the  ripened  intelligence  of  almost  a 
century,  with  all  its  manifold  experience  and 
treasures  of  memory,  and  in  the  present  case 
that  long  life  spanning  like  an  arch  two  great 
historic  epochs — this,  perhaps,  leaves  a  more 
solemn  impression  than  when  some  spring- 
tide flower  drops  its  bloom.  That  is  the  de- 
cay of  some  stately  oak  that  has  struck  its 


The  Death  of  the  Old. 


157 


roots  deep  into  the  soil  and  thrown  out  noble 
and  sheltering  branches,  identified  Avith  the 
landscape,  associated  with  the  life  of  many 
human  beings." 

The  imagery  of  this  extract  is  exceeding- 
ly fine.  I  have  seen  many  a  "  spring-tide 
flower"  drop  its  bloom.  There  is  a  species 
of  bell,  a  delicate  pink  in  color,  low  in  growth, 
and  abundant  in  flowers,  which  in  late  sum- 
mer and  early  autumn  often  beautifies  the 
shady  or  damp  paths  or  borders  of  streams. 
Short-lived  at  best,  it  is  especially  so  when 
culled.  "A  thing  of  beauty,"  indeed,  frail 
and  delicate,  its  fading  and  falling  bloom  is 
a  fitting  comparison  for  the  youthful  beauty, 
"  the  grace  of  the  fashion  "  of  which  so  often 
u  perisheth  "  in  human  society. 

A  bed  of  crane's-bill  filling  a  small  cove  un- 
der a  bank,  which  I  showed  a  friend  in  an 
afternoon's  walk,  was  one  of  the  loveliest 
sights  of  this  late  spring.  But  a  little  more 
than  a  week  afterward  no  particle  of  color 
was  there.  Those  lovely  petals,  outspread 
in  one  solid  mass  of  simple  but  incompara- 
ble bloom,  lay  "withered  and  dead."  Such 
sights  are  familiar  to  one  whose  native  tastes 


158    Recreations  of  a  Presiding  Elder. 


carry  his  feet  among  the  haunts  of  the  wild 
flowers.  And  hardly  less  familiar  to  us  are 
the  drooping  and  fading  away  of  loveliness 
of  person  and  rare  endowments  of  mind  and 
heart,  fitted  to  charm  every  beholder. 

There  is  no  flock,  however  watched  or  tended, 
But  one  dead  lamb  is  there. 

But  I  have  seen  "the  decay  of"  few  "  stately 
oaks."  One  is  indelibly  graven  on  my  memo- 
ry. It  stood  on  the  side  of  a  beautiful  stretch 
of  level  road,  in  a  hilly  region  near  the  mount- 
ains. There  was  no  other  tree  of  great  size 
along  the  road  for  a  mile  and  a  half.  It  was 
a  huge  white-oak,  branching  in  every  direc- 
tion at  ten  or  twelve  feet  from  the  ground, 
and  spreading  its  lusty  arms  to  a  great  dis- 
tance. If  not  a  "boundless  contiguity  of 
shade,"  it  was  a  delightful  canopy  for  man 
and  beast  in  the  heat  of  summer;  and  the 
tired,  dusty,  and  heated  traveler  halted  be 
neath  its  welcome  coolness  and  dense  pro- 
tection, and  felt  a  bond  of  hearty  sympathy 
with  panting  sheep  or  lolling  cattle  or  stamp- 
ing colts  on  the  other  side  of  the  fence  in- 
side the  inclosure.  Spending  many  summers 
less  than  a  mile  off,  I  not  only  passed  it  in 


The  Death  of  the  Old. 


159 


frequent  journeys,  but  on  hot  summer  nights 
delighted  to  walk  up  to  its  foot  and  enjoy 
the  night  breeze  while  I  peeped  from  beneath 
its  extended  arms  at  the  stars  in  their  silent 
march  across  the  sky.  Oft-times  I  blessed 
the  man  that  spared  it  from  the  original  for- 
est cleared  away  for  a  wide  expanse;  admired 
its  lovely  globular  head  and  pale,  smooth 
leaves,  and  in  autumn  its  abundant  "mast.'' 
An  evil  spirit  entered  into  the  owner  of  that 
land.  He  cut  off  every  branch,  making  a 
large  pile  of  fire-wood  (doubtless  excellent), 
and  left  the  stump  an  unsightly  column,  like 
a  sign-post.  Nature  struggled  hard.  Old  as 
the  tree  must  have  been,  it  put  out  bunches 
of  sprouts  from  the  mangled  stumps  of  its 
limbs.  They  took  on  some  coarse  but  large 
leaves,  and  strove  to  grow  and  flourish  as  of 
yore.  I  could  imagine  the  tree  to  be  con- 
scious, and  that  it  felt  like  the  shorn  Samson 
when  he  awoke  out  of  the  fatal  sleep,  and 
said,  "I  will  go  out,  as  at  other  times  be- 
fore, and  shake  myself."  But,  as  in  his  case, 
it  was  too  late.  When  I  last  saw  it  the 
sprouts  were  withered,  and  the  loosening 
bark  and  burned-like  look  of  the  cut  ends 


160     'Recreations  of  a  Presiding  Elder. 


of  boughs  showed  that  Byron's  words  were 
fulfilled: 

The  massy  trunk  the  rain  feels, 
And  never  more  a  leaf  reveals. 

I  had  sometimes  thought,  with  a  sadden- 
ing realization  of  the  brevity  of  human  life, 
that  it  would  probably  be  still  green  and  vig- 
orous long  after  I  had  ceased  to  breathe,  and 
shelter  many  a  way-worn  traveler  or  tired 
beast  when  I  should  be  forgotten  of  men 
and  my  place  know  me  no  more.  But  I  have 
lived  to  write  its  obituary.  With  a  deep  feel- 
ing of  condemnation  of  the  barbarian  who 
destroyed  it,  of  the  vandalism  that  would  not 
preserve  such  a  feature  of  the  rural  landscape, 
such  a  glory  of  the  way-side,  I  record  its 
end.  And  doubtless  Dr.  Southall  was  right. 
The  aged,  and  especially  the  aged  good  man, 
is  like  such  an  oak,  and  his  death  makes  on 
44  the  contemplative  mind '"'  an  impression  as 
solemn  and  deep  as  that  I  experienced  when 
last  I  rode  along  that  way  and  remembered 
the  tree  of  former  years.  Its  short  and  dis- 
figured trunk  was  like  the  fresh  red  grave 
of  a  patriarch,  before  grass  or  tombstone  is 
there  to  break  the  dreariness  of  naked  death. 


The  Death  of  the  Old.  161 


The  death  of  the  young  startles  and  touches 
as  when  a  bloom  of  rare  loveliness  drops 
from  the  flower-stalk  to  lie  irrecoverably 
tarnished  and  speedily  decay  and  disappear. 
In  poetry  and  fiction  the  death  of  the  young 
has  furnished  a  theme  of  irresistible  pathos. 
But  deeper  feeling  wakes  in  view  of  "the 
disappearance  of  a  ripened  intelligence." 
Whither  gone  and  to  what  future  destiny? 
Earthly  hopes  have  been  disappointed  and 
have  perished;  the  companions  of  youth  and 
active  life  are  long  since  gone;  a  new  stage 
of  life  is  ushered  in  on  every  side  with  actors 
unrecognized;  customs  and  fashions  are  won- 
derfully transformed;  there  is  no  more  a 
place  here  for  the  octogenarian.  He  sighs 
to  be  gone,  and  sees  beckoning  hands  and 
hears  voices  calling  him,  out  of  the  misty 
unknown.  How  thrilling  the  contemplation 
of  a  great  and  entire  change  to  him,  who  car- 
ries into  eternity  the  "  manifold  experience," 
the  "treasured  memories"  of  almost  a  cent- 
ury! Can  we  bury  him,  or  think  of  him 
when  we  see  his  vacant  chair,  as  of  an  in- 
fant of  days,  or  even  as  of  the  youthful  maid- 
en dying  at  "  sweet  sixteen?" 
11 


162    Recreations  of  a  Presiding  Elder. 


No.  26. 
THE  RED  SUNSETS. 
E  are  having  a  repetition  of  this 
remarkable  phenomenon  of  last 
year.  A  red  sunset!  Why,  that 
is  nothing  strange  or  unusual.  Certainly 
not,  a  sunset  of  brilliant  coloring  and  clouds 
touched  with  red  when  the  sunlight  is  ut- 
terly gone.  Familiar  prophecy  of  what  we 
have  had  quite  enough  of  this  year — dry 
weather!  But  coloring  so  red,  so  deep,  so 
vivid,  so  intense,  and  so  many  sunsets  of  this 
kind,  day  after  day,  certainly  these  are  not 
common.  These  years,  1883  and  1884,  will 
be  unusual,  I  think,  for  that.  The  philoso- 
phers made  no  satisfactory  explanation  or 
discovery  about  them  last  fall.  One  astrono- 
mer saw  in  his  telescope,  when  directed  at 
twilight  near  the  point  of  sunsetting,  a  flight 
of  multitudinous  telescopic  meteors.  It  was 
conjectured  that  such  a  stream  of  them  might 
somehow  color  the  sunsets  after  this  unusual 
fashion.  Possibly;  but  all  the  meteors  or 
shooting-stars  shine  with  a  white  light.  They 


The  Rfd  Sunsets. 


1G3 


flash  across  the  vault  of  heaven,  leaving 
streaks  of  yellow-whitish  color  similar  to  the 
gleams  of  lightning  in  a  thunder-storm.  I 
never  detected  in  one  the  violet  tint  that 
one  sometimes  perceives  in  lightning.  They 
give  not  the  faintest  hint  of  red  in  any  con- 
ceivable shade.  Whatever  their  cause,  our 
autumn  sky  has  glorified  itself  again  with 
these  surpassingly  beautiful  sunset  hues.  The 
parched  ground  and  dwindling  water-courses, 
the  scorched  and  dry  herbage  and  the  dusty 
plains,  are  depressing;  but  who  can  behold 
these  gorgeous  emblazonings  of  the  western 
heavens  without  emotion,  without  an  exalt- 
ing, thrilling  sensation  ?  I  saw  one  such 
sunset  under  touching  and  suggestive  cir- 
cumstances, a  few  days  ago.  A  railroad 
train  was  carrying  me  along  in  view  of  some 
regions  connected  with  my  ministerial  labors 
a  good  many  years  ago.  I  had  not  visited 
the  place  for  a  longtime,  nor  indeed  had  but 
once  been  in  sight  of  it.  The  village  rose 
on  my  sight,  distinct,  but  across  a  wide  val- 
ley, and  made  a  little  gloomy  by  the  ap- 
proaching evening  shades.  The  sense  of 
time,  long-past  events,  quickened  and  in- 


164    Recreations  of  a  Presiding  Elder. 


creased  a  melancholy  association  of  ideas 
otherwise  already  in  my  mind.  When  I  first 
knew  the  place  I  became  acquainted  with  a 
married  couple,  wedded  but  little  longer 
than  myself  and  wife.  We  were  their  guests, 
and  a  friendship  began  which  was  destined 
to  become  stronger  and  more  intimate  in 
later  years.  The  young  wife,  not  a  mere 
girl,  was  lovely  in  person  and  character,  and 
the  center  of  life  in  her  sweet  home  in  that 
ancient  village.  Years  passed,  the  war  fol- 
lowing closely  those  pleasant  days ;  wre  met 
again  in  another  place,  and  renewed  the  old 
ties  of  acquaintance  and  friendship.  In  each 
family  there  were  children  growing  up,  and 
by  that  fair  mother's  side  grew  a  lovely  girl, 
destined  to  greater  beauty  than  the  mother's) 
and  gifted  with  Uncommon  powers  of  fasci- 
nation. The  mother's  health  had  long  been 
threatened,  and  seemed  more  fragile  just 
when  the  daughter  had  bloomed  into  full 
maturity  of  youthful  loveliness,  the  attrac- 
tion in  every  assembly,  the  cynosure  of  evr 
ery  admiring  eye.  Alas!  the  arrow  which 
had  fatally  wounded  the  mother  passed  un- 
suspected through  the  daughter's  heart  also. 


The  'Red  Sunsets. 


165 


Quickly,  almost  without  warning,  the  deadly 
symptoms  developed,  progressed  without  ar- 
rest, and  in  less  than  a  year  she  was  gone. 
Strangely  enough,  the  peril  of  her  loved  one 
seemed  to  act  as  a  temporary  cure  of  the 
mother.  She  appeared  to  be  better,  under- 
went without  failing  all  the  fatigue  and  mis- 
ery of  that  long  watching  and  waiting  for 
death.  But,  when  her  darling  was  laid  in 
the  grave,  she  seemed  no  longer  capable  of 
resisting  her  enemy's  approach,  and,  sinking 
steadily,  in  the  course  of  two  years  lay  by 
the  side  of  her  child,  her  grave  by  the  side 
of  that  which  had  swallowed  up  beauty  and 
grace  and  hope.  The  two  graves  were  at 
that  old  village  across  the  valley.  I  could 
not  see  them,  but  I  knew  they  were  there; 
I  felt  their  presence.  In  the  declining  light 
of  day  the  landscape  was  mournful ;  it  seemed 
to  chant  the  dirge  over  buried  love  and  joy 
and  hope.  My  heart  sunk  with  the  feeling 
that  this  is  the  end  of  all.  No  one  can  stay 
the  march  of  that  dread  procession  by  which 
life  and  all  it  holds  dear  here  sweep  into  the 
remorseless  abyss  of  the  tomb.  "What  after 
death  for  me  remains?"  Just  then  the  train, 


166     Recreations  of  a  Presiding  Elder. 


sweeping  onward  toward  the  east,  brought 
the  receding  village  and  the  crest  of  hills  on 
which  it  stood  against  the  sunset  point,  and 
the  matchless  hues  of  the  "red  sunset"  rose 
above  its  trees  and  houses,  above  the  spot 
where  the  grave-yard  was.  Next,  above  the 
ground,  was  a  very  deep  red,  as  of  blood 
wrung  from  crushed  and  sorrowing  hearts, 
and  upward,  suffusing  the  higher  strata  of 
air,  was  a  delicate  and  indescribably  beauti- 
ful rose  and  violet  tint  intermingled,  blend- 
ing with  the  white  rays  of  the  twilight.  It 
rushed  upon  my  heart  that  it  is  a  natural 
prophecy  of  the  resurrection.  I  felt  the  sup- 
port, the  comfort  of  the  hope  of  Christian- 
ity. The  words  of  Beattie  were  echoed  in 
my  soul :. 

See  Truth,  Love,  and  Mercy  in  triumph  descending, 
And  Nature  all  glowing  in  Eden's  first  bloom ; 

On  the  cold  cheek  of  Death  smiles  and  roses  are  blending, 
And  Beauty  immortal  awakes  from  the  tomb. 

The  night  fell  around  me  in  thicker,  darker 
folds;  but  there  were  light  and  peace  in  my 
heart.  Death  had  spoken  in  solemn  tones; 
but  Nature,  clad  in  robes  of  light  and  love- 
liness, had  proclaimed  the  gospel  of  immor- 
tality and  salvation. 


u  Custer's  Last  Charge"  167 


No.  27. 

CUSTER'S  LAST  CHARGE." 
5OME  weeks  ago  I  went  with  a 
friend  to  look  at  this  painting-, 
the  work  of  the  Virginia  artist, 
Mr.  Elder.  It  was  about  to  be  sent  North 
for  exhibition  among  Custer's  own  people, 
and  probably  for  sale  where  money  is  more 
abundant  among  the  patrons  of  art.  I  say 
"  Custer's  own  people,"  not  because  I  am  dis- 
posed to  admit,  after  twenty  years'  peace  and 
quietness,  that  the  Virginians  are  not  "citi- 
zens of  the  United  States"  as  much  as  they 
were  in  1860,  nor  because  I  do  not  claim  our 
share  of  the  glory  won  by  the  deeds  of  any 
brave  and  gallant  soldier  of  the  United  States 
army.  No  one  appreciated  Custer's  intre- 
pidity and  clash  more  than  the  men  who  fought 
him  at  Trevilian's  and  in  the  Valley.  But 
Northern  people  are  his  people  by  blood  and 
State  lines,  and  by  full  alliance  and  sympa- 
thy in  the  civil  war.  And  they  should  feel 
a  deeper  interest  than  we  in  his  fame.  But 
I  am  glad  that  a  Virginia  painter  has  placed 


168     Recreations  of  a  Presiding  Elder. 

on  canvas  the  last  sad  scene  in  his  career, 
and  immortalized,  as  I  trust,  that  chivalric 
and  desperate  charge. 

It  is  a  picture  that  thrills  the  beholder. 
You  are  transported  into  the  midst  of  that 
wild  Western  landscape  and  that  mortal 
struggle  with  overwhelming  numbers  of 
savage  foes.  The  artist  has  selected,  with 
skill,  the  features  of  the  combat  which  he 
has  chosen  to  occupy  the  foreground.  In 
the  center,  the  United  States  cavalry  come 
like  a  storm-cloud,  Custer  leading  on  a  steed 
flying  like  the  wind,  while  his  upraised  saber 
hewing  his  way  has  for  the  time  cleared  the 
front.  Before  him  the  bugler  lies  prostrate, 
his  bugle  yet  clasped  in  his  dead  hand.  Sev- 
eral troopers,  wounded  more  or  less  desper- 
ately, perhaps  in  the  previous  hours  of  the 
light,  are  on  the  ground  almost  under  his 
feet.  One  of  them  has  raised  himself  on  his 
elbow,  and  done  his  last  service  by  shooting 
through  the  heart  an  Indian  chief  on  foot 
immediately  before  Custer,  and  about  to 
close  upon  him  with  a  huge  hunting-knife 
open  and  uplifted.  It  may  be  he  had  ap- 
proached to  scalp  the  soldier,  who  shot  him 


"  Custer  s  Last  Charge."  169 


when  the  charge  was  made.  At  any  rate, 
he  is  finished!  His  left-hand  thrown  up  in 
mortal  agony,  his  features  struck  with  death, 
his  mighty  figure  falling  backward,  proclaim 
the  soldier's  deadly  aim.  He  reminds  me  of 
a  dying  poacher,  shot  by  the  pursuers,  and 
falling  from  a  crossing-log  with  his  load  of 
chamois  fastened  to  his  shoulders,  which  I 
saw  once  in  a  piece  of  Tyrolean  or  German 
wood-carving.  It  was  marvelous  to  me  to 
see  produced  in  wood  those  expressions  of 
despair  and  mortal  hurt.  The  same  are  here 
in  this  Indian.  But  somewhat  farther  to  the 
left  a  yet  more  striking  chief  has  drawn  a 
bow,  with  arrow  to  the  head,  and  is  aiming 
directly  at  the  great  cavalry  leader.  As  he 
is  shooting  by  like  a  bolt  from  the  skies,  and 
his  saber  is  about  to  descend  upon  the  head 
of  the  chief  who  bars  his  passage,  and  who 
is  just  then  shot  by  the  prostrate  cavalryman, 
he  is  in  deadly  peril  from  the  shaft  of  the 
picturesque  and  athletic  son  of  the  forest. 
Beyond  this  Indian  another  is  falling  a  vic- 
tim to  the  revolver  of  a  trooper  charging  not 
far  behind  his  leader;  but  none  is  able  to 
send  a  shot,  where  just  then  it  seems  most 


170    'Recreations  of  a  Presiding  Elder. 


needed,  at  the  owner  of  that  deadly  bow. 
To  the  right,  In  front,  are  savages  skulking 
behind  dead  horses,  with  arms  in  their  hands, 
and  on  the  extreme  right,  starting  from  the 
ground  and  ravines  are  scores  of  the  enem}r, 
'  rushing  forward,  in  all  sorts  of  attitudes,  and 
tiring  upon  the  charging  column.  The  effect 
of  their  fire  is  seen  in  the  reeling  forms  of 
horsemen  behind  the  doomed  General.  The 
picture,  in  the  few  figures  seen  on  the  left, 
makes  suggestion  of  the  same  movement 
from  that  direction  to  defeat  this  desperate 
effort  to  cut  through.  As  yet  the  fatal  mo- 
ment has  not  arrived.  The  fatal  arrow  has 
not  left  the  string,  nor  any  shot  been  fired  to 
bring  down  that  imposing  form  in  the  fore- 
ground. The  horse,  with  extended  nostrils, 
and  feet  that  paw  the  air  in  flying  leaps,  is 
fleeter  than  death,  and  on  his  back  sits  su- 
perbly poised,  in  hunting-shirt  costume,  with 
grim  determination,  and  tensely  excited  will 
and  courage  written  on  every  feature,  the 
hero  of  so  many  contests  with  greater  foemen, 
about  to  fall  by  mere  dint  of  numbers  and 
overwhelming  advantages  of  position  and 
knowledge  of  the  ground.    He  rides  to  his 


"Custer's  Last  Charge."  171 


doom,  as  befits  such  a  man,  taking  the  last 
desperate  chance.  If  his  command  can  be 
rescued  b}7  desperate  valor,  it  shall  be.  Woe 
to  the  enemy  upon  whom  he  charges  while 
life  yet  animates  that  gallant  heart  and  em- 
powers that  sinewy  arm  ! 

The  coloring  and  perspective  are  good.  I 
presume  the  artist  made  special  study,  it  may 
be  by  personal  visit,  of  the  very  ground  of 
the  catastrophe.  To  one  who  has  seen  pict- 
ures drawn  from  nature  of  that  region  in 
Dakota,  and  the  other  Territories  of  the 
North-west,  there  is  truth  to  nature  in  every 
trait.  The  plains  and  ravines  of  that  home 
of  the  bison  and  red  man,  where  Custer  and 
his  men  perished,  will  always  have  on  that 
account  a  more  tragic  interest. 

I  trust  that  the  last  of  such  encounters  as 
this  has  taken  place.  Until  the  eating  tooth 
of  time  has  devoured  the  race  of  Indians,  or 
the  happier  food  of  civilization  has  assimi- 
lated them  to  such  conformity  with  the  dom- 
inant race  in  habits  and  manners  as  will  re- 
move forever  all  occasions  of  conflict,  I  pray 
that  no  more  blood  of  either  may  be  shed  in 
such  war.    I  confess  to  have  felt  a  pitying 


172    Recreations  of  a  Presiding  Elder. 


admiration  of  even  "  Captain  Jack"  and  "  Sit- 
ting Bull,"  still  more  of  ''Chief  Joseph,"  a 
far  noble*  and  better  spirit,  not  stained,  as 
the  others,  with  treachery  and  murder.  In 
the  remote  obscurity  of  ages  without  annals 
is  the  origin  of  these  people.  Their  ances- 
tors may  have  been  on  a  rude  scale  and  with 
unmerciful  power  to  the  races  of  "  Mound- 
builders,"  who  once  peopled  the  West,  what 
the  English  and  Anglo-American  have  been 
to  them.  Providence,  I  am  certain,  has  done 
them  no  injustice.  But  may  the  last  clays 
of  their  existence  be  peaceful  and  bloodless: 
may  no  "Logan"  of  the  latter  times  recite 
in  pathetic  speech  the  extermination  of  his 
kinsmen  by  rifle  and  revolver;  and  may  the 
Indian  of  the  closing  years  of  the  nineteenth 
century  be  better  represented  by  Checote 
than  by  Sitting  Bull! 


Ice-making. 


173 


No.  28. 
ICE-MAKING. 

AYS  a  recent  writer:  "  Of  all  the 
projects  that  have  excited  the 
ridicule  of  the  unimaginative  of 
times  gone  by,  perhaps  none  has  appeared 
more  exceedingly  funny  and  chimerical  than 
that  of  producing  at  will,  by  mechanism  op- 
erated by  heat,  a  freezing  cold,  and  that 
without  the  use  of  ice  or  any  previously  con- 
gealed substance,  and  without  regard  to  at- 
mospheric temperature."  In  the  city  of 
Richmond  there  is  a  low  brick  building,  on 
the  western  end  of  Canal  street,  upon  which 
"  the  midsummer  sun"  does  not  shine  "dim," 
but  in  full -orbed  meridian  splendor  and 
power,  out  of  which  project  pipes  that  by 
their  hissing  emission  of  steam  give  token 
more  of  a  saw-mill  than  any  thing  else.  The 
buzz  of  the  saw,  however,  and  harsh  rending 
of  plank  do  not  issue  from  its  peaceful  inte- 
rior. "Positively  no  admittance  except  on 
business"  warns  off  the  curious,  and  except 
an  occasional  workman  going  in  and  out,  and 


174    Beer  cations  of  a  Presiding  Elder. 

the  sallying  forth  of  red-painted  ice-carts, 
there  is  nothing  to  indicate  that  there  is  any 
thing  particular  going  on,  or  the  kind  of 
business  there  transacted. 

I  am  told,  for  I  have  never  been  in  it,  that 
this  is  where  ice  is  made  artificially  "by  a 
mechanism  operated  by  heat."  "  Without 
regard  to  atmospheric  temperature,"  without 
use  of  any  "previously  congealed  substance," 
in  sultry,  sweltering  August,  in  mild,  non- 
freezing  winters,  in  Indian  summer,  and 
balmy  spring,  in  the  day-time,  and  at  "three 
o'clock  p.m."  (the  hottest  part  of  hot  days), 
they  go  on  quietly  making  out  "of  James 
River  water"  ice,  that  never  saw  a  pond  or 
cool,  sylvan  retreat,  which  does  not  come 
from  the  Kennebec  or  anywhere  else  remote 
and  nearer  to  the  North  Pole,  but  out  of  the 
laboratory  of  "fair  science,"  which  so  far 
from  frowning  on  its  "  humble  birth  "  in  that 
unpretending  building,  rejoices  over  its  for- 
mation as  one  of  its  latest  and  greatest  tri- 
umphs. And  they  sell  it  as  cheaply  as  other 
ice.  I  do  not  know  what  particular  process 
is  used  at  this  ice-factory.  I  suppose  little 
can  be  seen  by  inspection,  and  one  must  be 


Ice  making. 


175 


somewhat  acquainted  with  recent  chemistry 
to  appreciate  what  he  can  see.  Some  of  the 
readers  of  the  Advocate  may,  however,  like 
to  know  something  in  general  of  the  process 
of  ice-making  by  artificial  means;  and,  for 
their  benefit,  I  make  use  of  an  article  in  the 
October  number  of  the  Popular  Science 
Monthly,  by  Guy  B.  Seely,  on  the  latest  dis- 
covery in  this  direction,  that  of  a  Frenchman, 
now  dead,  Du  Motay.  The  quotation  at  the 
beginning  of  this  article  is  from  Mr.  Seely. 
The  basis,  he  tells  us,  of  the  principal  sys- 
tems has  been  "the  volatilization  of  a  liquid 
in  vacuo  by  means  of  a  gas-pump."  Ether 
and  ammonia  have  been  the  substances  ex- 
perimented with  chiefly.  "The  object  sought 
has  been  the  most  economical  method  of  em- 
ploying those  substances  that  are  capable  of 
producing  the  greatest  degree  of  cold"  (by 
volatilization).  "But  a  difficulty  is  encoun- 
tered in  the  high  pressures  of  the  gases  pro- 
duced in  the  pump:"  the  pressure  increasing 
directly  as  the  cold-producing  power.  The 
"obvious  drawbacks"  of  such  pressure  are 
liability  to  explosion,  inflammability,  rapid 
wear  and  tear  of  the  machinery,  etc.  Du 


176    Recreations  of  a  Presiding  Elder. 


Motay  "sought  to  combine  two  or  more 
liquids  which  should  have  the  property,  in 
combination,  of  mutually  neutralizing  the 
defective  features  they  exhibited  when  used 
separately."  He  employed  ether  and  sul- 
phurous acid.  "The  inflammability  of  the 
ether  was  nullified  by  the  sulphurous  acid; 
a  perfect  lubricant  was  obtained,  and  the 
substance  had  no  corrosive  action  on  the 
metals  employed."  But,  above  all,  the  ether 
absorbs  a  large  part  of  the  gas  of  the  acid, 
and  "reduces  the  mechanical  problem  to 
that  of  liquefying  a  gas  having  a  pressure 
not  approximating  that  of  sulphurous  acid, 
viz.,  fifty  to  eighty  pounds  or  more  per 
square  inch,  but  barely  more  than  that  of 
ether  itself,  viz.,  twenty  pounds. "  In  other 
words,  "the  ether  is  found  to  have  accom- 
plished the  greater  part  of  the  work,  and  a 
law  of  nature  governing  the  action  of  certain 
chemicals  in  combination  is  availed  of  to  re- 
duce the  mechanical  labor  of  liquefaction  to 
a  minimum."  It  is  this  "mechanical  labor" 
which  requires  a  steam-engine  or  "mechan- 
ism operated  by  heat "  to  make  cold.  The 
gas   produced    by   the   volatilizing  pump 


Ice-making. 


177 


worked  by  steam  must  be  compressed  by 
the  machinery  until  it  becomes  a  liquid 
again,  that  it  may  be  available  for  further 
employment  and  be  disposed  of  readily  and 
profitably.  Mr.  Seely  describes  the  process 
as  follows :  "  The  freezing  agent,  ethylo- 
sulphurous  dioxide,  or  glycerine  and  am- 
monia, or  whatever  be  the  compound  em- 
ployed, is  placed  within  the  '  refrigerator,' 
which  consists  of  tubular  coils  immersed  in 
an  uncongealable  mixture.  A  double-acting 
vacuum-pump  volatilizes  the  agent  in  the 
refrigerator  coils,  and  this  is  attended  with 
the  development  of  an  intense  cold  which  is 
communicated  to  the  surrounding  mixture, 
and  the  latter,  by  means  of  a  circulating 
pump,  is  made  to  flow  through  a  suitable 
tank  containing  vessels  of  water  to  be  fro- 
zen. .  .  .  The  discharge  pipe  of  the  circu- 
lating pump  communicates  with  a  con- 
denser," which  receives  the  volatilized  liquid, 
and  where  the  gas  is  liquefied  again  and  ul- 
timately restored  to  the  refrigerator  "  to  be 
again  volatilized/'  the  waste  being  small,  as 
of  steam  in  low-pressure  engines.  "The 
time  consumed  in  the* process  of  freezing  the 
12 


178    Recreations  of  a  Presiding  Elder. 


water-cans  ranges  from  twenty-four  to  thir- 
ty-six hours,"  the  insulation  of  the  tanks  be- 
ing more  or  less  perfect  in  different  mechan- 
isms, and  causing  delay  when  not  perfect. 
I  hope  these  extracts  are  intelligible  enough 
to  the  ordinary  reader  to  prevent  his  being 
as  vague  in  his  notions  of  ice-making  as  he 
probably  is  of  the  Bain  printing  telegraph. 

This  artificial  manufacture  of  ice  is  a  great 
boon  to  hot  regions  and  to  us  of  temperate 
regions  in  mild  winters;  and  as  cold  is  man- 
ufactured, the  process  can  be  applied,  and 
has  been,  to  arrangements  for  cooling  build- 
ings in  intensely  hot  weather.  That  will 
probably  always  be  a  luxury,  whereas  the 
\ce  is  now  very  nearly  a  necessity  of  life,  and 
is  placed  in  reach  of  very  poor  people. 

My  readers  will  permit  a  presiding  elder 
to  say  that  there  is  no  need  for  a  process  of 
artificial  ice-making  in  the  churches.  The 
natural  production  there  is  at  present,  like 
the  condition  of  the  iron  furnaces  and  cotton 
factories,  a  case  of  over-production.  The 
demand  is  fully  met.  We  need  heating,  and 
not  freezing;  seventy-five  degrees  above,  and 
not  ten  below,  zero. 


Ice-waking. 


179 


Come,  Holy  Dove,  from  the  heavenly  hill, 
And  warm  our  frozen  hearts. 

O  for  men  "fervent  in  spirit,  serving  the 
Lord ! "  We  have  a  great  many  who  are  "  not 
slothful  in  business."  But  in  spiritual  affec- 
tions, religious  activities,  devout  fervor,  they 
are  sadly  deficient.  Their  spirits  have  got 
into  the  tanks  of  the  ice-factory  owned  by 
Messrs.  World,  Elesh  &  Devil.  May  they 
have  an  explosion  in  that  factory  that  will 
shatter  the  refrigerator  and  lay  waste  the 
gas-pump ! 


180    Recreations  of  a  Presiding  Elder. 


No.  29. 
SORROWFUL  HOLIDAYS. 
E  rejoice  to  know  that  the  time- 
honored  seasons  draw  nigh  in 
which  custom  and  associations 
place  happy  greetings  and  social  festivity. 
N~o  churlish  nature,  in  most  of  us,  repels 
their  bright  approach.  Certainly  none  in 
me  stands  guard  to  keep  off  these  gladsome 
days.  I  am  delighted  to  witness  the  gam. 
bols  and  frolicsome  glee  of  children — the 
bright,  hopeful  talk  and  sports  of  young 
people,  free  of  care  and  buoyant  with  the 
wine  of  healthy  life  in  their  veins,,  charm 
me,  and  almost  make  me  wish  myself  young 
again.  I  never  was  given  to  unseemly  dis- 
sipation, and  do  not  admire  the  relish  that 
some  grown  folks  have  for  gayety  and  folly 
at  the  holidays,  verging  on,  if  not  reaching 
into,  drunkenness  and  the  orgies  of  sensual- 
ism and  utter  ungodliness.  Why  should  a 
rational  being,  because  it  is  Christmas,  for- 
get God  and  eternity  and  make  himself  a 
dog  or  a  brute  over  eggnog,  oyster-suppers, 


Sorrowful  Holidays. 


181 


and  riotous  living  generally?  Why  should 
he  forsake  home-life  and  innocent  pleasures 
and  spend  the  small  hours  of  night  at  some 
club-house  or  loose-living  man's  room,  and 
drink  of  the  cess-pools  of  dissipation?  "From 
all  such  withdraw  thyself."  But  the  pleas- 
ant Christmas  dinner,  the  New-year  reunions, 
uncursed  by  fashion  and  intemperance — the 
holiday  enjoyments  at  once  intellectual  and 
elevating,  the  music,  the  reading,  the  social 
converse,  the  pure  pleasures,  the  temporary 
laying  aside  of  business  cares,  severe  study, 
or  labor — who  was  ever  the  worse  for  these? 
Pleasant  recollections  of  them  come  across 
my  heart-strings,  and  make  music  like  the 
breathings  of  the  zephyrs  upon  the  ^Eolian 
harp.  I  see  the  Christmas-trees  loaded  and 
waiting  at  midnight  for  the  little  ones  asleep 
in  their  cribs,  whose  chirping  at  awaking 
will  rival  the  birds  of  spring;  I  hear  the 
tones  of  voices  long  silent,  the  strains  of 
music  from  hands  now  cold  in  death;  "the 
light  of  other  days"  breaks  in  upon  my  soul, 
and  I  thank  God  for  past  joys  that  have  left 
no  sting,  for  "days  that  arc  no  more,"  but 
are  unregretted  and  un forgotten. 


182    Recreations  of  a  Presiding  Elder. 


Sometimes  a  shadow  falls  athwart  our  holi- 
days, a  shadow  of  sickness,  bereavement,  or 
some  special  loss  or  calamity.  Such  was  my 
case  this  year.  While  people  greeted  each 
other  and  the  season  with  gladness,  while 
bells  and  merriment,  and  the  evergreens  and 
the  carols,  and  the  full  tables  and  the  crowded 
parlors,  expressed  the  welcome  of  Christmas, 
I  lay  helpless  well-nigh,  unable  to  stand,  and 
without  movement  save  under  the  penalty 
of  pain;  I,  who  have  known  so  little  of  se- 
rious sickness,  have  spent  so  little  time  in 
bed  save  to  sleep,  and  that  soundly;  I,  who 
have  been  such  a  pedestrian,  have  so  loved 
to  walk  and  rejoiced  in  my  power  to  propel 
myself  over  hill  and  dale,  if  not  to  "  paddle 
my  own  canoe,"  to  climb  mountains,  and 
make  long  journeys.  Happily,  I  could  read, 
and  had  something  to  read;  but,  with  all  re- 
liefs obtainable,  how  irksome  the  days  of 
confinement,  the  sense  of  disability,  the  mo- 
notony of  a  sick-bed  life!  How  welcome 
the  symptoms  of  approaching  cure,  the  abil- 
ity to  "  rise  up  and  walk,"  the  clothing  once 
more  resumed,  the  breath  of  out-doors,  the 
locomotion,  though  at  first  slow  and  cramped ! 


Sorrowful  Holidays. 


183 


But  Sorrow,  grave  brother  of  Pain,  greeted 
me  also.  He  came  just  before  the  new  year. 
And  as  the  light  of  that  day  broke,  with  so 
much  of  hope  and  gladness  and  joyful  ex- 
pectation to  many,  it  fell  on  me  at  the  death- 
bed of  a  dear  and  treasured  loved  one.  The 
bright,  kind,  tender  eyes,  fall  of  sympathy 
and  charity,  were  closed  to  be  opened  no 
more;  the  heaving  breast  still  labored  with 
the  last  efforts  of  dissolving  nature,  but  the 
generous  heart,  so  true,  so  high-toned,  so 
unselfish,  was  soon  to  be  still;  the  hands,  so 
soft  in  their  touch,  so  skillful,  so  wonderfully 
ready  in  emergencies  of  life  and  death,  were 
lying  still  or  twitching  with  the  slight  shiv- 
ering, convulsive  motion  that  seemed  to 
shrink  from  the  cold  touch  of  Death,  the 
enemy  they  had  so  often  successfully  resisted 
in  others;  the  well-known  features  were  set- 
tling into  the  calmness  and  unbroken  repose 
of  the  last  sleep.  Two  more  days,  winter 
days,  short  and  cold,  gloomy  and  withering 
in  breath  and  aspect,  were  to  be  given  of  this 
"death  in  life;"  but  no  glance  of  recogni- 
tion, no  voice  of  cordial,  affectionate  greet- 
ing, no  call  for  any  aid  nor  any  polite  ac- 


184    Recreations  of  a  Presiding  Elder. 


knowledgment  of  any  little  service,  should 
again  give  token  of  lingering  on  the  shore 
of  time.  These  had  all  gone  out  with  the 
old  year,  dead  in  his  time  and  lot.  And 
then  came  the  actual  snapping  of  the  links 
of  life,  attenuated  to  the  last  degree  of  thin- 
ness; the  last  moment,  for  which  nothing 
seems  altogether  to  prepare  us,  which  has  in 
it  something  of  a  surprise  after  all.  A  little 
gazing  at  the  dead  face,  tender  kisses  upon 
the  pale,  cool  brow;  and  after  that — "earth 
to  earth,  ashes  to  ashes."  We  had  tenderly 
followed  him  "to  the  last  lonely  point  of 
earth;"  we  had  laid  his  remains  by  the  side 
of  the  graves  of  his  children — the  four  girls, 
from  a  lovely  babe  to  a  beautiful  young  wife, 
who  had  preceded  him  in  the  course  of  thirty 
years ;  and  that  drama  of  life  was  over.  Forty 
years  of  rare  public  usefulness,  a  record  of 
not  having  lived  in  vain,  and,  thank  God 
too,  of  at  last  casting  a  weary  head  with  re- 
pentant tears  upon  the  Redeemer's  breast 
"without  one  plea"  but  his  blood,  and  all 
of  earth  to  him  is  gone,  and  he  is  "  beyond 
the  sun." 

The  new  year  has  been  crowned  by  sorrow 


Sorrowful  Holidays.  185 


The  chaplet  is  cold  as  the  ice  which  holds 
the  frosty  ground  and  crackles  under  the  foot; 
it  is  also  pure  as  the  snow  of  winter;  its  les- 
son has  no  taint  of  evil  or  falsehood;  it  speaks 
of  life  eternal,  of  God,  and  the  land  where 
tears  never  fall.  Listening  to  its  teachings, 
self  is  withered  and  sin  cast  out. 


186     Recreations  of  a  Presiding  Elder. 


No.  30. 

A  FUTURE  STATE. 

'O  most  minds  there  are  attractions 
!  in  literature  wherein  the  dread 
unknown,  the  mysterious  and 
awful  hereafter,  is  revealed.  Be  it  that  we 
know  it  is  man's  imagining,  or  dreaming,  or 
surmising — still  we  are  powerfully  drawn  to 
such  pictures.  From  the  plain  but  master- 
ful allegory  of  John  Bunyan,  with  its  River 
of  Death  and  Celestial  City — the  city  of 
which  distant  views  were  had  from  the  De- 
lectable Mountains — to  the  "Physical  Theo- 
ry of  a  Future  Life,"  by  Isaac  Taylor,  and 
"Beyond  the  Gates,"  by  Elizabeth  Stuart 
Phelps,  and  "A  Little  Pilgrim,"  by  Mrs.  Oli- 
phant;  and,  above  all,  the  noble  Christian 
poem  of  Bickersteth — "Yesterday,  To-day, 
and  Forever" — the  theme  finds  new  pens  to 
treat  it  and  an  inexhaustible  supply  of  read- 
ers. It  is  an  involuntary  tribute  of  human 
nature  to  the  glory  and  importance  of  "the 
things  that  are  not  seen."  It  may  be  that 
curiosity,  a  prying  into  new  and  wonderful 


A  Future  State. 


187 


matters,  has  part  in  this  readiness  to  deal 
with  such  topics.  But  it  is  mainly  a  nobler 
feeling.  It  is  a  realization  that  surpassing 
interest  attaches  to  the  life  to  come  which 
shall  be  eternal  ;  that  its  occupations  and 
sources  of  enjoyment  and  satisfaction  are  of 
overwhelming  significance  to  us  who  are  so 
soon  to  enter  upon  them  and  rely  upon  them 
for  our  good.  And  it  is  a  feeling  after  the 
loved  and  lost,  as  men  sometimes  in  dreams 
and  half-unconsciousness  grope  and  grasp  in 
the  gloom  of  thought,  if  haply  they  may 
clasp  to  their  aching  and  hungry  hearts  some 
long-absent  dear  one  of  the  household  group. 

I  have  spent  some  leisure  hours  of  recent 
days  in  reading  one  of  the  books  before 
named,  "  Beyond  the  Gates."  One  of  the 
evangelists  lately  laboring  in  Richmond,  I 
have  understood,  warned  his  hearers  against 
reading  it  ;  and  it  is  certainly  not  evangelical 
in  its  stand-point :  rather  it  is  rationalistic, 
"Broad  Church,"  semi-Unitarian.  It  would 
be  a  misfortune  indeed  to  receive  any  intima- 
tion from  it  which  is  contradicted  by  Script- 
ure. It  more  than  hints,  for  example,  at  a 
second  probation;  it  transfers  to  a  high  and 


188    Recreations  of  a  Presiding  Elder. 


most  honorable  felicity  persons  who  have 
simply  exhibited  a  great  natural  virtue,  such 
as  the  sacrifice  of  life  to  save  men  in  peril; 
it  distinguishes  dimly,  if  at  all,  between  the 
faith  of  assent  and  that  of  the  heart  "  with" 
which  "man  believeth  unto  righteousness." 
It,  nevertheless,  has  many  valuable  features, 
and  may  be  read  with  profit  by  many  per- 
sons. Perhaps  it  is  like  a  razor,  not  to  be 
intrusted  to  children,  and  in  the  paw  of  a 
monkey  useful  to  cut  his  own  throat  or 
wound  seriously  another  animal,  but  valua- 
ble to  the  adult  being  with  hirsute  posses- 
sions. It  may  be  judiciously  employed  to 
deepen  the  sense  of  the  eternal  life,  so  dull 
in  us  after  all,  and  so  easily  dulled  yet  more 
into  blunt  forgetfulness  of  every  thing  outside 
the  domain  of  sense.  It  contains  some  good 
lessons,  impressively  taught.  The  value  of 
personal  holiness  is  presented  in  a  strong 
light;  the  love  and  sympathy  of  our  Lord 
are  beautifully  exhibited — a  poor,  unhappy 
girl,  who  had  none  of  her  own  family  and 
kindred  in  the  world  of  glory  to  welcome 
her,  tells  that  she  was  met  first  by  the  Mas- 
ter himself,  and  greeted  and  protectingly  ush- 


A  Future  Slate.  189 


ered  into  its  amazing  and  transcendent  hap- 
piness; there  are  some  ingenious  and  effect- 
ive touches  concerning  devoutness,  submis- 
sion to  the  Divine  will,  Providence,  etc.  I 
am  glad  I  read  it;  I  think  I  have  kept  the 
wheat  and  let  the  chaff  go. 

Nothing  has  ever  impressed  me  more  deep- 
ly than  the  first  book  of  "  Yesterday,  To-day, 
and  Forever" — the  Death  of  the  Seer  and 
his  Descent  into  Hades.  That  brings  home 
death  and  eternity  very  vividly  to  a  soul  yet 
in  the  flesh.  But  I  have  no  faith  in  the  pre- 
millennialism  of  the  book,  which  is  yet  one 
of  its  most  conspicuous  features.  Men  like 
Bickersteth  and  Kyle  cannot  write  without 
saying  all  they  mean  and  know.  So,  Eliza- 
beth Stuart  Phelps  is  earnest  and  outspoken; 
error  with  her  is  deeper  and  more  injurious, 
but  she  is  a  disciple  of  our  Lord,  too;  she 
loves  him  in  sincerity.  Many  a  Christian 
soul  will  enter  into  this  extract,  with  which 
I  close: 

"  For  I  knew  as  I  sat  in  that  solemn  hour, 
with  my  face  to  the  sea  and  my  soul  with 
him,  while  sweeter  than  any  song  of  all  the 
waves  of  heaven   or  earth  to  sea-lovers, 


190    Recreations  of  a  Presiding  Elder. 


sounded  his  voice  who  did  commune  with 
me — verily  I  knew,  for  then  and  forever,  that 
earth  had  been  a  void  to  me  because  I  had 
him  not,  and  that  heaven  could  be  no  heaven 
to  me  without  him.  All  which  I  had  known 
of  earthly  love;  all  that  I  had  missed;  the 
dreams  from  which  I  had  been  startled  ;  the 
hopes  that  had  evaded  me;  the  patience 
which  comes  from  knowing  that  one  may  not 
even  try  not  to  be  misunderstood  ;  the  strug- 
gle to  keep  a  solitary  heart  sweet;  the  an- 
ticipation of  desolate  age  which  casts  its 
shadow  backward  upon  the  dial  of  middle 
life;  the  paralysis  of  feeling  which  creeps 
on  with  its  disuse ;  the  distrust  of  one's 
atrophied  faculties  of  loving;  the  sluggish 
wonder  if  one  is  ceasing  to  be  lovable;  the 
growing  difficulty  of  explaining  one's  self 
when  it  is  necessary,  because  no  one  being 
more  than  any  other  cares  for  the  expla- 
nation ;  the  things  which  a  lonely  life  con- 
verts into  silence  that  cannot  be  broken, 
swept  upon  me  like  rapids,  as  turning  to 
look  into  his  dazzling  face,  I  said:  'This — 
all  this — he  understands.'" 


Hollywood  Cemetery. 


191 


No.  31. 

HOLLYWOOD  CEMETERY. 


from  the  tombs  a  doleful 
sound!"  is  an  exclamation  which 
j  expresses  with  many  persons  the 


only  feelings  or  sentiments  connected  in  their 
minds  with  cemeteries.  They  hate  with  a 
deadly  hatred  allusions  to  death  and  the 
grave,  and,  if  they  could,  would  banish  all 
recurrences  of  such  disagreeable  topics.  But 
mortality  is  too  vast  and  fresh  a  subject  to 
be  banished  by  a  volition.  It  intrudes  upon 
our  thoughts;  its  sad  and  gloomy  acces- 
sories force  themselves  upon  our  sight. 
"A vaunt!  "  we  may  exclaim,  but  the  gloomy 
figure  will  not  disappear.  Door-bells  or  han- 
dles muffled  with  crape,  tolling  bells,  slowly 
nodding  hearses,  freshly  dug  earth  in  omi- 
nous-lookingmounds,  black  garments  and  sad 
countenances,  desolate  homes  and  painful 
vacancies  in  family  circles,  are  in  our  sight 
or  smiting  our  ears;  and  in  the  vicinity  of 
our  large  towns  the  "cities  of  the  dead"  en- 
large their  borders  continually  to  remind  us 


192    He  creations  of  a  Presiding  Elder. 

unceasingly  of  "  the  inevitable  hour"  which 
awaits  us  all. 

In  the  first  series  of  these  Recreations  I 
wrote  of  the  desirableness  of  cemeteries  at 
all  our  country  churches.  My  thoughts  to- 
day are  running  on  grave-yards  and  the 
tombs,  but  not  with  that  particular  applica- 
tion, nor  with  the  gloomy  and  doleful  asso- 
ciations of  unbelief  and  worldliness. 

The  celebrated  cemetery  of  Hollywood- 
lovely  indeed  in  natural  situation  and  adorn- 
ment, and  improved  to  a  considerable  de- 
gree by  well-directed  art — is  within  easy 
reach  of  a  walker  of  moderate  powers,  and 
very  often  attracts  my  wandering  footsteps. 
Alike  in  cold  weather  and  in  warm — most 
of  all  in  the  bright  soft  days  of  our  fall  sea- 
son, dreamy  and  sweet — I  find  its  secluded 
walks  and  vales  a  pleasant  resort.  The  beau- 
ty of  nature  pleases  the  eye,  the  general  as- 
pect of  the  place  and  its  associations  soothe 
restlessness,  and  in  many  ways  wholesome 
lessons,  not  always  sad  nor  ever  very  de- 
pressing, suggest  themselves. 

I  am  drawn  to  it  by  the  resting-places  of 
that  mortal  part  which  was  once  inhabited 


Hollywood  Cemetery. 


193 


by  many  of  my  dear  friends.  The  little  spot 
they  themselves  do  not  occupy.  That  mound 
of  earth  does  not  cover  James  A.  Dun- 
can, nor  that  grass-covered  grave  hide  from 
sight  the  venerable  and  beloved  George  W. 
Langhorne.  But  they  are  the  places  of 
earth  which  hold  the  bodies  once  glorified  by 
the  presence  of  the  spiritual  intelligences  we 
knew  and  loved,  marred  and  decaying  under 
the  power  of  the  grave  now,  but  some  day 
to  be  "raised  in  power"  and  reanimated  by 
those  intelligences.  Sacred  and  dear,  then, 
to  sight  and  memory  those  hallowed  spots — 
not  to  be  avoided  and  glanced  at  with  gloom 
and  doubting  fear  and  horror;  but  tenderly 
visited  from  time  to  time,  helping  us  to  think 
lovingly  and  with  hope  and  Christian  joy  of 
them  and  their  faith  and  love  in  Christ  Jesus. 

It  is  a  round  of  visits — sometimes  shorter, 
sometimes  longer,  always  sweetly  consoling, 
with  a  subdued,  partially  melancholy  satis- 
faction— that  I  pay  when  I  take  my  walk 
through  the  cemetery.  The  number  of 
friends  to  be  called  on  enlarges  steadily  even 
here,  far  away  from  the  scenes  and  friend- 
ships of  my  early  life.  Several  have  been 
13 


194    Recreations  of  a  Presiding  Elder. 


added  of  late.  Brother  ministers,  fathers  in 
Christ,  some  of  whom  I  listened  to  and  knew 
in  my  youth,  and  younger  men,  "  mine  equals 
and  acquaintance,"  are  here.  I  lovingly  sa- 
lute them  all,  and  linger  near  some  of  them 
writh  deeper  affection.  Faithful  friends  are 
here  too,  and  some  special  cases — former  pu- 
pils— upon  whose  early  graves  the  tears  of 
their  old  teacher  have  fallen.  Green  be  the 
grass  and  sweet  the  flowers  that  cover  their 
dust!  Beneath  that  mound  is  stilled  the 
heart  that  once  beat  high  with  love  and  hope 
and  trust  and  all  sweet  affections.  I  will 
come  time  and  again  to  look  upon  it,  and 
revive  the  thoughts  of  that  faithful  friend- 
ship which  was  unchanged  and  un dimmed 
"  even  unto  death."  It  must  be  fresh'  and 
strong  and  pure  in  heaven,  though  its  min- 
istries on  earth  have  ceased,  or,  if  they  reach 
me  now,  are  bestowed  upon  an  unconscious 
object. 

At  least  eight  of  the  deceased  ministers  of 
our  Conference  are  buried  at  Hollywood — 
over  four  of  whom  monuments  are  erected. 
A  minister  somewhat  distinguished,  of  an- 
other Conference,  is  also  interred  here — the 


Hollywood  Cemetery.  195 


.Rev.  M.  M.  Henkle,  D.D.,  of  the  Tennessee 
Conference.  lie  died  during  the  war,  in 
1864,  and,  I  think,  in  a  hospital  while  acting 
as  chaplain.  A  head-board  of  plain  wood, 
near  the  splendid  Masonic  monument  of  Dr. 
Dove,  marks  the  resting-place  of  this  man  of 
God.  Its  inscription  is  fading,  and  the  board 
itself  must  be  near  to  utter  decay.  Perhaps 
we  have  waited  long  enough  for  his  brethren 
to  erect  something  more  durable — let  us  in 
Virginia  put  a  simple  head-stone  at  the  grave 
of  a  holy  and  useful  man  of  no  common  or- 
der. The  soil  of  the  Old  Dominion  holds 
his  bones — let  her  Methodist  sons  mark  his 
grave. 


196     Recreations  of  a  Presiding  Eider. 


No.  32. 

MONUMENTS  IN  HOLLYWOOD. 

Y  last  paper  referred  to  the  natural 
beauty  of  Hollywood.  It  is  in- 
deed "  beautiful  for  situation,"  and 
its  natural  advantages  have  been  availed  of 
till,  from  the  ivy-covered  lodge-gates  onward 
to  the  new  portion  of  the  cemetery,  every 
aspect  of  the  vales  and  slopes  and  brooks  ap- 
peals to  the  sense  of  beauty  in  every  visitor. 
The  natural  growth  of  holly,  cypress,  sweet- 
gum,  and  oak  receives  a  large  accession,  not 
out  of  proportion,  however,  of  trees  and 
shrubs  not  indigenous,  such  as  magnolias  and 
all  kinds  of  evergreens.  Flowering  shrubs 
and  plants  are  abundant,  and  in  spring  and 
summer  "all  looks  flowery"  and  "sweet," 
with  just  enough  that  might  be  called  "  wild  " 
to  charm. 

The  enlargement  of  the  cemetery,  made 
these  latter  years,  is  nearly  destitute  of  trees. 
It  lies  high  and  dry,  however,  with  a  slight 
undulation,  and  atones  for  its  bareness  by 
the  surpassingly  delightful  view  of  the  river 


Monuments  in  Hollywood.  197 


scenery — the  finest  portion  of  "the  Falls" 
being  just  opposite,  as  well  as  Bellisle.  The 
finest  monument  in  Hollywood,  that  of  the 
late  Charles  Talbott,  is  in  this  part,  and,  to- 
gether with  the  granite  columns  in  honor  of 
Drs.  Plumer  and  Jeter,  may  be  seen  from 
almost  all  points  along  the  southern  bank 
of  the  James.  A  liberal  and  judicious  sys- 
tem of  planting  will  soon  leave  little  to  be 
desired  here. 

As  many  of  my  readers  may  never  see 
Hollywood,  some  account  of  its  monuments 
may  not  be  uninteresting. 

On  the  loftiest  point,  near  the  edge  of  the 
old  cemetery,  and  rather  overhanging  the 
river  and  canal,  just  above  the  old  pump- 
house  of  the  City  Water-works,  stands  the 
modest  mausoleum  within  whose  open-work 
may  be  seen  the  granite  sarcophagus  inclos- 
ing the  coffin  of  James  Monroe,  President  of 
the  United  States  from  1817  to  1825.  In- 
cluding the  recently  inaugurated  President 
Cleveland,  twenty-two  men  have  held  this 
high  office  for  whole  terms  or  parts  thereof. 
Only  four  remain  alive,  and  one  of  these 
(Gen.  U.  S.  Grant)  is  probably  on  his  death- 


198     Recreations  of  a  Presiding  Elder. 


bed.*  Three  died  on  the  4th  of  July  (Inde- 
pendence day),  and  President  Monroe  was 
one  of  these.  A  short  inscription,  on  a  cop- 
per-plate, says  the  remains  of  this  "  good  and 
honored  son"  of  Virginia  were,  by  order  of 
the  General  Assembly,  removed  from  New 
York,  where  he  died  and  was  at  first  buried, 
to  Hollywood  July  5,  1858;  so  they  will 
have  slept  this  summer  as  long  in  the  soil  of 
Virginia  as  they  did  in  that  of  "the  Em- 
pire State." 

Mr.  Monroe  is  eclipsed  in  history  by  the 
brighter  names  of  his  predecessors,  Wash- 
ington, Jefferson,  and  Madison  ;  but  he  was 
the  central  figure  of  a  peaceful  era,  and 
had  no  opposition  to  his  election  for  either 
term,  which  fortune  has  fallen  to  nobody 
since,  as  it  did  to  none  before  except  Wash- 
ington. 

In  the  circle  surrounding  the  mausoleum, 
in  which  are  some  striking  monuments  and 
names  of  distinction  and  interest,  is  the  grave, 
as  yet  unmarked,  of  John  Tyler,  another 
Virginia  President  of  the  United  States.  A 

*  Ex-President  Grant  died  at  Mt.  McGregor,  New  York, 
July  23,  1885. 


Monuments  in  Hollywood.  199 


married  daughter  lies  near  him  with  a  pretty 
carved  head-stone.  The  father,  a  really  great 
man  in  very  many  respects,  partaker  in  the 
active  politics  of  two  historic  epochs,  was  the 
lirst  Vice-president  who  assumed  the  Presi- 
dency by  reason  of  the  death  of  his  superior 
in  office.  Disappointing  the  party  who  elect- 
ed him,  he  incurred  their  bitter  dislike,  and 
Henry  Clay,  their  great  leader,  dubbed  Mr. 
Tyler  "  His  Accidency."  But  the  fierce  par- 
ty passions  of  over  thirty  years  ago  are  bur- 
ied with  the  men.  "Also  their  love  and  their 
hatred  and  their  envy  are  now  perished."  The 
Legislature  of  Virginia-should  erect  a  mon- 
ument over  the  grave  of  ex-President  Tyler. 
He  is  one  of  her  greatest  men;  his  resting- 
place  should  be  marked. 

No  other  cemetery  contains  the  graves  of 
two  Presidents,  unless  the  two  Adamses 
(John  and  John  Quincy)  are  buried  to- 
gether at  Quincy,  Mass.  The  former  died 
there,  but  the  latter  died  in  the  House 
of  Representatives  at  Washington  in  1848. 
I  do  not  remember,  but  probably  his  body 
was  carried  to  Quincy.  If  so,  that  little 
old  "  town  ,?  and  Richmond  share  the  honor. 


200     Recreations  of  a  Presiding  Elder. 


The  tombs  of  other  noted  politicians  ar- 
rest the  eye  as  we  wander  over  the  grounds. 

A  square,  low,  granite  tomb  near  the  splen- 
did monument  of  Mr.  Talbott,  in  the  new 
cemetery,  bears  this  inscription:  "Here  lies 
John  Eandolph,  of  Roanoke.  Born  June 
2,  1773.  Died  May  24,  1833.  His  remains 
were  removed  from  Roanoke,  Charlotte  coun- 
ty, Va.,  to  this  spot  December  13,  1879." 
Unique,  sensitive,  proud,  with  a  tongue  like 
a  Damascene  blade,  this  most  aristocratic  of 
republicans  will  be  remembered  as  long  as 
eccentric  genius  is  unforgotten.  Every  thing 
he  had  possessed  an  elegance  peculiar  to  the 
man.  My  old  friend,  John  C.  Blackvvell — 
who,  alas!  is  gone  to  the  world  of  spirits 
also — had  one  of  the  many  copies  of  the  Greek 
Testament  collected  by  Randolph.  It  was 
Griesbach's  edition,  in  binding  and  finish 
was  singularly  nice  and  beautiful,  and  was 
bought  at  the  sale  at  Roanoke  after  the  death 
of  the  great  commoner. 

Near  to  President  Monroe's  tomb,  yet  not 
in  the  circle  around  it,  is  the  monument  of 
Hon.  James  A.  Seddon,  Representative  in 
Congress  for  several  terms  from  the  Rich- 


Monuments  in  Holly  wood.  201 


mond  District,  and  one  of  Jefferson  Davis's 
Secretaries  of  War  during  the  four  years' 
life  of  the  Confederate  States. 

A  massive  granite  monument  is  over  a 
vault  that  will  one  clay  contain  the  dust  of 
ex-Governor  William  Smith  ("Extra  Billy  "), 
as  it  now  does  that  of  his  wife  and  some  of 
his  sons.  But  the  brave  and  strong  old  man, 
now  an  octogenarian,  yet  lingers  on  the  shore 
of  time.  Letcher  and  Johnson,  Wise  and 
Floyd,  Campbell  and  Gilmer,  and  others,  are 
gone;  the  names  of  some  of  them  "  have  been 
carved  for  many  a  year  on  the  tomb;"  but 
he  is  still  among  the  younger  men  who  knew 
the  statesmen  and  politicians  of  ante  bellum, 
who  went  through  the  war  of  secession,  and 
see  the  twentieth  year  since  peace  was  made 
at  Appomattox. 

Hollywood  has  several  conspicuous  monu- 
ments of  ministers  of  the  gospel;  a  number 
also  sleep  in  graves  not  recognized  by  the 
general  visitor.  Besides  those  great  lights 
of  non-episcopal  Churches  already  named 
(Jeter  and  Plumer),  there  are  two  Bishops 
interred  here — Richard  Ch aiming  Moore,  of 
the  Protestant  Episcopal  Church,  predeces- 


202    Recreations  of  a  Presiding  Elder. 


sor  of  the  late  Bishop  Meade  (he  died  in 
Lynchburg  in  1841,  having  seen  the  minis- 
ters of  his  diocese  increase  from  seven  to 
ninety-five),  and  David  S.  Doggett,  of  the 
Methodist  Episcopal  Church,  South,  whose 
eloquent  preaching  and  comparatively  recent 
death  are  within  the  memory  of  all  of  us. 

The  s  reat  logician  and  debater  of  South- 
ern Methodism,  Wm.  A.  Smith,  D.D.,  lies 
beneath  a  plain  and  rather  small  stone  shaft 
erected  by  his  brethren;  while  a  tall  and 
beautiful  column  of  granite,  with  polished 
faces,  marks  the  spot  where  sleeps  the  incom- 
parable James  A.  Duncan.  Two  Presidents 
of  Randolph-Macon  are  in  Hollywood  then, 
and  inferior  they  were  to  none  of  that  or  any 
other  college.  The  monument  of  Dr.  Dun- 
can and  the  brief  but  most  appropriate  in- 
scriptions were  described  and  given  at  length 
in  the  Advocate  some  years  ago  by  Rev.  W. 
E.  Judkins. 

A  tall  granite  column  is  at  the  resting- 
place  of  Rev.  Wm.  H.  Starr,  a  gentle,  faith- 
ful, holy  man,  father  of  Dr.  Starr  of  our  Con- 
ference, and  himself  a  member  of  it  for  many 
years. 


Monuments  in  Hollywood. 


203 


Dr.  William  J.  Hoge,  brother  of  Moses  I). 
Hoge,  D.D.,  and  father  of  Rev.  Peyton  H. 
Hoge,  an  eloquent  man  and  much  lamented, 
lies  underneath  a  beautiful  marble  monument 
erected  by  friends  in  New  York,  Baltimore, 
and  Petersburg,  at  which  last  place  he  died 
during  the  war. 

Two  other  graves  of  ministers  are  marked 
—that  of  ST.  W.  Wilson,  D.D.,  of  the  Bap- 
tist Church,  who  fell  a  victim  in  New  Or- 
leans to  the  yellow  fever  of  1878,  and  that 
of  the  venerable  Dr.  Anderson  Wade,  of  the 
Episcopal  Church,  long  a  resident  in  Charles 
City. 

Monuments  very  similar  to  Dr.  Duncan's 
are  in  the  new  cemetery  at  the  graves  of  Dr. 
W.  S.  Plumer  and  Dr.  J.  B.  Jeter,  the  great 
Presbyterian  and  Baptist  preachers,  whose 
works  and  fame  are  coextensive  with  the 
bounds  (  f  their  respective  Churches.  By  b 
remarkable  coincidence  these  great  men  were 
born  in  the  same  year  and  month  (July,  1802), 
died  in  the  same  year  (1880),  the  one  in  Feb- 
ruary, the  other  in  October,  and  sleep  near 
each  other  in  the  same  cemetery,  the  bury- 
ing-place  of  the  city  where  each  achieved 


204    Recreations  of  a  Presiding  Elder. 


great  fame  and  left  an  indelible  impress. 
The  somewhat  copious  inscriptions  on  both 
monuments  are  excellent  compositions;  that 
on  Dr.  Plumer's  the  better,  I  think — senten- 
tious and  appropriate,  scriptural  and  elegant. 
That  is  lofty  eulogium  which  declares  that 
he  wTas  "  a  pastor,  like  the  Good  Shepherd, 
leading  the  flock  beside  the  still  waters,  car- 
rying the  lambs  in  his  bosom;  a  preacher, 
eloquent,  instructive,  persuasive,  scriptural, 
wise  to  win  souls,  knowing  only  Christ  and 
him  crucified."  The  description  of  his  person- 
al appearance  and  traits  is  graphic:  "A  man 
of  majestic  form  and  patriarchal  manners,  per- 
fect integrity,  apostolic  fervor,  truest  friend- 
ship." In  both  these  saints  was  fulfilled  that 
scripture  which  says,  "With  long  life  will  I 
satisfy  him,  and  show  him  my  salvation." 
"  Nevertheless,  man  being  in  [even  such] 
honor  abideth  not."  "Your  fathers,  where 
are  they?  and  the  prophets,  do  they  live  for- 
ever?" 

But  I  find  my  space  giving  out  long  before 
my  subject,  and  must  reserve  further  descrip- 
tions for  another  time. 


Monuments  in  Hollywood. 


205 


No.  33. 

MONUMENTS  IN  HOLLYWOOD  (CONTINUED). 

F  literary  men  there  are  some  ex- 
amples—  notably,  John  R.  Thomp- 
son, long  the  editor  of  the  Southern 
Literary  Messenger,  whose  tasteful  monument, 
"  erected  by  his  Northern  and  Southern 
friends,"  says  he  was  "the  graceful  poet,  the 
brilliant  writer,  the  steadfast  friend,  the  loyal 
Virginian,  the  earnest  and  consistent  Chris- 
tian." John  Hampden  Cbamberlayne's  sim- 
ple granite  head-stone  is  on  the  main  "  West 
Vale  Avenue:"  his  brother-in-law,  Dr.  George 
W.  Bagby  ("0  rare  Ben  Jonson!"),  sleeps 
in  Shockoe  Hill  Cemetery.  A  chaste,  grave, 
and  now  somewhat  old-looking  monument 
of  brown-stone  covers  the  dust  of  Wm.  Max- 
well, Esq.,  State  Librarian  (if  I  mistake  not) 
in  his  time,  and  well  known  for  years  as  a 
scholarly  lawyer,  "a  promoter  of  education." 
In  the  circle  near  President  Monroe  is  the 
monument  of  Matthew  Fontaine  Maury,  the 
great  author  of  the  "Physical  Geograpby  of 
the  Sea"  and  of  the  world-famous  "Winds 


206    Recreations  of  a  Presiding  Elder. 


and  Currents  Charts,"  by  which  long  voy- 
ages, like  those  to  California  and  Australia, 
were  shortened  one-third,  and  the  commerce 
of  Great  Britain  alone  estimated  by  a  writer 
in  one  of  the  quarterlies  to  haveioeen  saved 
£10,000,000  per  year.  He  founded  the  Naval 
Observatory  at  Georgetown,  and  advanced,  it 
by  his  industrious  service;  retiring  from  it 
when  the  war  of  1861  began,  to  serve  his 
native  State  and  section,  and  dying,  after  the 
strife  wTas  over,  at  the  Virginia  Military  In- 
stitute, setting,  with  Gen.  Lee  at  the  neigh- 
boring Washington  College,  the  great  exam 
pie  of  pious  submission  to  the  will  of  God 
and  of  labor  for  the  Southern  youth.  At 
least  one  of  the  successors  he  has  had  at  the 
Observatory  has  been  a  man  not  wanting  in 
learning  and  ability,  but  an  avowed  agnostic 
and  unbeliever  who  has  lent  the  strength  of 
his  mind  and  acquirements  to  the  overthrow 
of  faith  in  a  personal  God.  I  remember  that 
the  only  time  I  ever  heard  and  saw  Maury 
(at  the  University  of  Virginia  in  1855)  he 
drew  upon  his  observation  of  nature  in  a 
striking  passage  of  his  address,  to  confirm 
the  faith  of  his  audience  in  a  God  of  order, 


Monuments  in  Hollywood.  207 


might,  and  love.  He  was  an  old-fashioned 
Virginian,  full  of  love  of  God's  creation,  and 
when  he  died  requested  that  his  body  might 
be  borne  to  its  resting-place  through  the 
famous  "Goshen  Pass"  when  the  rhododen- 
drons were  in  bloom. 

A  few  distinguished  jurists  are  among  the 
Hollywood  dead.  Judge  Moore,  of  Alabama, 
ha3  a  beautiful  monument  of  Tennessee  mar- 
ble near  the  grave  of  Dr.  Wm.  Hoge.  A  lit- 
tle north  of  his  is  the  tomb  of  Judge  Lyons, 
of  the  Richmond  Hustings  Court.  Else- 
where lies  that  marvel  of  legal  learning, 
"Wm.  Green,  LL.D.;  and  the  grave  of  the 
late  Judge  Robert  Ould  is  just  by  the  monu- 
ment he  erected  over  his  first  wife's  remains, 
a  little  way  east  of  Bishop  Doggett's.  In 
like  manner  the  grave  of  Judge  R.  II.  Cole- 
man, of  Fredericksburg,  is  near  the  monu- 
ment erected  by  students  of  the  University 
to  his  son,  a  most  promising  youth,  unfort- 
unately killed  by  a  railroad  train  at  Char- 
lottesville. 

War  and  soldiers  are  not  forgotten  in 
Hollywood,  where  lie  the  bodies  of  hundreds, 
perhaps  thousands,  of  the  men  who  bled  for 


208     Recreations  of  a  Presiding  Elder. 


the  "  Lost  Cause."  The  !A  Confederate  Monu- 
ment," a  huge  pyramid  of  unhewn  stone, 
partially  grown  over  with  ivy  and  other 
creepers,  towers  majestically  on  the  northern 
side  of  the  old  cemetery.  It  has  a  Latin  in 
scription,  often  printed,  but  seen  by  few  who 
visit  it.  The  great  heroes  of  the  civil  war, 
so  far  as  the  South  is  concerned,  sleep  at 
Lexington.  But  Hollywood  holds  one  whose 
name  will  ever  be  the  s}monym  of  chivalric 
bravery.  He  fell  at  the  conflict  at  Yellow 
Tavern,  where,  by  dint  of  hammering  with 
a  comparative  handful  upon  the  vastly  supe- 
rior forces  of  Sheridan,  he  compelled  that 
dashing  Federal  officer  to  give  over  a  ride 
into  Richmond  which  was  invitingly  open 
before  him.  It  is  meet,  then,  that  the  body 
of  gallant  "Jeb"  Stuart  should  be  in  keep- 
ing of  the  city  he  saved  and  died  in  saving. 
A  tall  column  of  granite,  with  simple  inscrip- 
tion, tells  that  he  fell  at  the  early  age  of 
thirty-one.  The  words  "  Lieut.-gen.  A.  P. 
Hill"  on  the  flat  granite  curbing,  inside  of 
which  he  is  "alone  in  his  glory,"  point  to 
the  spot  where  lies  that  brave  and  successful 
lieutenant  of  Jackson,  on  whose  dying  lips 


Monuments  in  Hollywood.  209 


his  name  lingered.  He  was  the  only  general 
officer  who  fell  in  the  evacuation  of  Peters- 
burg; he  seemed  to  prefer  to  die  with  the 
Southern  cause.  A  marble  cross  is  at  the 
head  of  Gen.  E.  H.  Chilton,  for  some  time 
Gen.  Lee's  Adjutant-general.  And  all  over 
the  grounds  are  small  monumental  stones 
beneath  which  lie  the  bones  of  officers  of  all 
the  lower  grades  of  service,  many  from  the 
Gulf  States.  Gen.  Pickett's  grave  is  un- 
marked; it  is  on  "Gettysburg  Hill,"  to  the 
north  of  the  great  Confederate  pyramid. 
Among  other  as  yet  unmarked  graves  known 
to  me  are  those  of  Maj.  John  Stewart  Walker, 
who  fell  at  Malvern  Hill  (one  of  the  best 
Methodists  who  ever  lived  in  Richmond,  and 
a  man  of  noblest  type),  and  that  true-hearted, 
brave,  and  faithful  soldier,  Maj.  Walker's 
brother-in-law,  Col.  John  M.  Otey,  the  Ad- 
jutant-general of  Beauregard  and  Johnston 
in  the  West.  Few  lives  have  ever  had  such 
a  record  of  faithful  self-sacrifice  and  devo- 
tion to  those  he  loved  as  that  which  ended 
just  two  years  ago  in  Col.  Otey's  death. 
Sweet  as  the  roses  that  bloom  at  his  head  is 
the  odor  of  such  a  life. 
14 


210    Recreations  of  a  Presiding  Elder. 


JSTo  profession  is  more  fully  represented  in 
Hollywood  than  the  medical.  Faithfully 
laboring  to  delay  the  coming  of  their  patients 
to  its  sheltering  protection,  they  have  them- 
selves found  there,  from  the  impartial  sep- 
ulcher,  a  welcome.  In  old  age,  in  the  prime 
of  life,  and  in  youth,  these  disciples  of  Escu- 
lapius  have  taken  the  "medicine"  which, 
like  Raleigh's  death-ax,  is  "sharp,  but  cures 
all  diseases."  The  love  and  care  of  "the 
poor"  is  mentioned  on  some  of  these  doc- 
tors' tombs.  Happy  men!  who  sweetened 
the  bitter  potion  of  poverty,  and  who  are 
sadly  missed  by  the  humblest  and  poorest 
patient.  The  late  Dr.  James  Bolton  is  buried 
beneath  one  of  the  prettiest  of  the  Tennes- 
see marble  monuments.  Near  him  lies  his 
son,  the  young  engineer,  whose  life  was  sac- 
rificed by  the  caving  in  of  the  Chesapeake 
and  Ohio  tunnel  under  Church  Hill— an 
ugly,  dark  hole  that  I  never  go  through 
without  a  feeling  of  recoil,  and  which  should 
never  have  been  constructed. 

One  notices  the  great  number  of  columns 
made  of  James  River  granite.  This  excel- 
lent stone,  which  for  building  purposes  and 


Monuments  in  Hollywood-. 


211 


paving  is  finding  its  way  into  every  part  of 
the  Union,  is  found  in  abundance  on  both 
sides  of  the  river  above  Richmond  and  op- 
posite to  it.  It  takes  a  beautiful  polish,  and 
is  as  durable  as  "the  everlasting  hills"  out 
of  which  it  is  quarried.  Of  the  scores  of 
monuments  made  of  it,  the  finest  is  the  Ma- 
sonic monument  to  Dr.  Dove,  Grand  Scribe 
of  the  Grand  Lodge  of  Virginia  for  more 
than  forty  years.  It  is  very  near  the  canal, 
and  with  the  smaller  but  still  noble  column 
in  memory  of  James  R.  Branch  (cut  off  in 
the  prime  of  life  and  mid-career  by  the  fall- 
ing of  a  bridge  in  1869),  and  the  monument 
of  Mr.  Larus  recently  erected,  forms  a  prom- 
inent part  of  the  view  from  all  points  along 
the  river.  Around  the  monument  of  their 
great  old  Secretary  the  Masons  have  bur- 
ied many  of  their  brethren.  Dr.  Henkle's 
wooden  head-board,  as  I  have  before  stated, 
is  here.  The  Masonic  order  have  rewarded 
forty  years'  service  with  a  noble  structure; 
the  Church  has  allowed  a  true  and  holy  man, 
who  served  at  her  altars  for  an  equal  length 
of  time,  to  slumber  for  twenty  years  under 
the  sign  of  a  pine  plank! 


212    Recreations  of  a  Presiding  Elder. 


Of  monumental  sculpture  there  are  many 
examples  in  the  tombs  of  Hollywood,  chiefly 
over  the  graves  of  women.  One  on  a  man's 
near  President  Monroe's  is  a  bowed  figure 
wholly  covered  with  drapery  through  which 
the  figure  is  dimly  discernible,  suggestive  of 
perfect  abandonment  to  grief.  Other  figures 
represent  angelic  pity  or  consolation.  Ferns, 
lilies,  and  other  flowers  are  in  chiseled  abun- 
dance, and  occasionally  there  are  small  re- 
cumbent statues.  In  one  place  there  is  a 
round  stone  column  about  ten  or  twelve 
feet  high,  with  a  flat  cap-stone  and  heraldic 
shield,  unlike  any  thing  else  in  the  cemetery. 

As  to  inscriptions  in  general,  it  may  be 
said  that  very  many  are  brief,  names  and 
dates  only;  some  are  puerile  and  inappro- 
priate; a  few  are  in  German  (one  of  a  youth 
near  Dr.  Duncan's  grave  contains  the  first 
verse  of  Count  Zinzendorf's  hymn,  so  wTell 
translated  by  John  Wesley,  beginning,  "Je- 
sus, thy  blood  and  righteousness").  One  on 
the  tomb  of  a  railroad  employe,  killed  in  a 
collision,  is  a  singular  poem  of  three  stanzas, 
full  of  metaphors  derived  from  his  calling. 
Those  which  I  read  with  never-exhausted  in- 


Monuments  in  Hollywood.  213 


terest  are  expressive  of  Christian  faith  and 
hope  and  resignation.  In  the  Catacombs  of 
Rome,  amid  the  horrors  of  persecution,  the 
hunted  and  despised  followers  of  Jesus  left 
on  the  walls  of  the  gloomy  refuge,  which  was 
sanctuary  and  charnel-house  in  one,  the  im- 
perishable record  of  their  high  faith.  On 
the  graves  of  Anglo-Saxons,  the  great  civiliz- 
ers  of  the  world,  that  faith,  after  eighteen  cent- 
uries, still  utters  no  uncertain  sound.  The 
gospel  which  "  hath  brought  life  and  immor- 
tality to  light"  swallows  up  "death  in  vic- 
tory/"' One  of  the  most  perfect  of  these 
Christian  inscriptions  in  Hollywood,  ingeni- 
ous, but  not  labored,  is  on  the  head-stone  of 
Mrs.  Susan  Morton  Hoge,  wife  of  Rev.  M.  D. 
Hoge,  D.D.:  "  From  a  Life  of  Love,  through 
a  Death  of  Peace,  into  an  Eternity  of  Glory." 
On  the  shaft  which  marks  the  resting- 
place  of  a  young  lady  is  this  language:  "Her 
last  words,  '  My  trust  is  in  my  Saviour.  I 
die  without  a  doubt  or  fear.'"  What  other 
people  besides  Christian  believers  "  die  with- 
out a  doubt  or  fear?"  In  apathy,  in  reckless 
bravado,  in  stupidity,  or  with  inward  trem- 
blnig  or  fearful  anxiety,  men  may  die  who 


214     Recreations  of  a  Presiding  Elder. 


know  not  the  Lord  Jesus.  And  if  in  outward 
calmness  or  philosophic  dignity,  yet  with 
what  uncertainty  and  doubt !  But  the  Chris- 
tians "  die  well;"  old  or  young,  cultured  or 
rude,  rich  or  poor,  in  prosperity  or  at  the  end 
of  crushing  adversities  and  losses,  they 
breathe  their  life  out  sweetly  who  lean  their 
heads  on  the  bosom  of  Jesus.  From  the 
graves  of  these  young  and  inexperienced  be- 
lievers, little  known  out  of  their  immediate 
families,  no  less  than  from  the  tombs  of 
saints  like  Plumer  and  Jeter,  and  Bishops 
Moore  and  Doggett,  and  Drs.  Hoge  and  Dun- 
can, the  victorious  shout  arises,  caught  up 
by  the' millions  of  Christians  who  yet  remain 
alive:  "O  death!  where  is  thy  sting?  O 
grave!  where  is  thy  victory?  Thanks  be 
unto  God,  wrhich  giveth  us  the  victory 
through  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ. " 


An  Elocutionary  Pulpit. 


215 


No.  34. 

AN  ELOCUTIONARY  PULPIT. 

OME  days  ago  I  was  reading  the 
preface  of  a  work,  a  valuable  work 
in  its  department  of  knowledge— 
"  Gymnastics  of  the  Voice,"  by  Oskar  Gutt- 
mann.  In  referring  to  the  defective  elocu- 
tion exhibited,  most  of  all  in  the  ministerial 
profession,  the  clever  author  says: 

"  The  remark  often  heard  in  this  respect, 
that  a  pulpit  speaker  ought  only  to  care  for 
what  he  says,  not  how  he  says  it,  cannot  be 
made  any  longer.  How  can  a  perfect  sermon 
be  brought  to  a  true  appreciation  without  a 
perfect  delivery?  Let  less  stress,  therefore, 
be  put  on  the  sinful  state  of  man,  and  more 
stress  on  the  sinful  neglect  of  a  true  aesthetic 
form  and  culture,  and  let  there  be  given  a 
good  example  in  this  respect  by  an  artistic 
training  and  cultivation  of  nature's  gifts; 
for  only  in  this  way  can  the  true  moral  sense 
in  the  people  be  fed°anfl  cultivated.  Let  the 
people  be  attracted  and  accustomed  to  go  to 
church  by  the  perfection  of  pulpit  oratory. 


216     Recreations  of  a  Presiding  Elder. 


Let  the  noble  thoughts  be  clothed  in  a  noble 
form." 

This  language  is  not  only  a  specimen  of 
the  notions  of  many  men  as  to  the  function 
of  the  pulpit,  but  it  is  a  type  of  the  thoughts 
in  which  a  considerable  class  of  persons  com- 
fort themselves  in  the  utter  neglect  of  wor- 
ship and  attending  church.  They  may  ad- 
mit the  intrinsic  nobility  of  the  thoughts 
contained  is  very  much  Christian  preaching, 
but  they  beg  to  be  excused  from  listening  to 
those  which  are  not  "  clothed  in  a  noble 
form"  according  to  a  standard  quite  as  high, 
perhaps,  as  that  of  Mr.  Guttmann.  And  as 
few  if  any  clergymen,  by  natural  gifts  and 
cultivation,  attain  to  this  "  form,"  these  very 
particular  hearers  are  content  to  gather  their 
ideas  of  morality  and  religion  from  books  and 
newspapers,  or  perhaps  the  "  noble  form  "  of 
the  actors  in  theaters.  With  them  manner 
is  every  thing.  The  matter  may  be  the  voice 
of  God  to  man  on  the  subjects  of  greatest 
importance  to  man,  but  it  must  be  treated 
with  contemptuous  indifference,  not  to  say 
received  with  disgust,  unless  voice,  gesture, 
modulation,  emphasis,  combine  to  constitute 


An  Elocutionary  Pulpit.  217 


"  a  noble  form"  considered  from  the  stand- 
point of  the  professor  of  elocution.  Before 
discussing  this  unsound  view,  let  me  hasten 
to  say  how  highly  I  value  the  gifts  of  nature 
for  delivery  and  real  cultivation  of  a  high 
order  in  elocution.  Blessed  is  that  preacher 
whose  voice  is  like  a  lute;  whose  "bodily 
presence"  is  not  at  all  "contemptible/'  but 
commanding  and  attractive;  whose  utterance 
and  gesticulation  are  natural,  easy,  pleasant, 
impressive;  whom  it  is  a  pleasure  without 
drawback  to  hear.  As  to  your  actor-like 
preacher,  whose  art  is  not  well  concealed, 
whose  delivery  smacks  strongly  of  affectation, 
whose  voice  is  artificial  and  gestures  studied, 
though  his  articulation  be  distinct  and  ex- 
act, though  his  postures  be  graceful,  and  his 
tones  graduated  to  the  emotions  supposed  to 
be  expressed,  now  by  whispering  and  now  by 
a  fierce  gnashing  of  teeth,  I  prefer,  for  my 
part,  the  awkwardest  boy  in  "  the  saddle- 
bags class"  of  the  itinerant  seminary.  He, 
at  any  rate,  is  simple,  earnest,  and  means  all 
he  says;  a  blunderer,  and  at  times  somewhat 
ridiculously  so,  he  may  be,  but  he  is  thinking 
about  something  else  than  the  effect  he  is 


218    .  Recreations  of  a  Presiding  Elder. 


producing  by  his  manner.  Perhaps  a  great 
soul  of  love  and  faith  and  eloquence,  like 
Marvin's,  is  concealed  for  the  time  by  that 
boorish  manner  and  that  unlovely  exterior. 
What  possible  objection  can  be  made  to  Mr. 
Guttmann's  "Let  the  noble  thoughts  be 
clothed  in  a  noble  form?"  By  all  means,  if 
possible.  Nothing  is  sacrified,  but  much 
gained,  by  the  attainment  of  that  end. 

But  when  he  talks  about  laying  "  less 
stress"  on  "the  sinful  state  of  man;"  and 
that  "the  true  moral  sense  in  the  people" 
can  be  "  fed  and  cultivated"  only  by  "artistic 
training  and  cultivation  of  nature's  gifts"  in 
the  preachers,  so  that  "a  good  example" 
shall  be  given  "  in  this  respect,"  and  that 
people  can  be  effectually  "  attracted  and  ac- 
customed to  go  to  church  by  the  perfection 
of  pulpit  oratory" — to  all  this  I  most  decid- 
edly object.  It  is,  as  I  conceive,  a  complete 
misunderstanding  of  the  true  functions  of 
the  ministry,  of  the  real  state  of  the  human 
race,  and  of  the  agencies  which  can  be  suc- 
cessfully employed  to  convert  and  sanctify 
men.  Is  it  a  time  when  iniquity  abounds, 
and  the  love  of  many  waxes  cold,  to  lay  "less 


An  Elocutionary  Pulpit.  219 


stress  upon  the  sinful  state  of  man?  "  Upon 
what  shall  we  put  stress?  How  ridiculous, 
to  a  man  in  earnest,  who  really  believes  man 
to  be  sinful  and  lost,  to  think  of  stressing 
any  thing  else !  And  for  a  teacher  of  preach- 
ing to  tell  his  students  that  they  have  heard 
enough  about  man's  ruin  and  redemption, 
and  it  is  time  they  felt  less  the  importance 
of  that  and  gave  heed  to  the  more  necessary 
theme  of  their  "sinful  neglect"  to  make  the 
right  tones  and  right  gestures!  And  as  to 
"attracting  men  and  accustoming  them  to 
go  to  church,"  do  preachers  who  excel  in  elo- 
cution always  have  more  hearers?  Houses 
will  not  hold  the  people  who  go  to  hear 
Moody,  but  he  is  no  orator,  and  I  suspect 
never  read  a  work  on  delivery  and  elocution 
ill  his  life.  People  overflow  the  churches 
where  Sam  Jones  speaks,  murdering  elocu- 
tion in  every  sermon,  knowing  as  little  of  it 
as  a  calf  does  about  the  opera.  But  if  there 
be  anything  on  which  Moody  and  Sam  Jones 
put  stress,  it  is  "the  sinful  state  of  man." 
And  a&  men  are  sinners,  and  their  sins  in- 
volve tremendous  consequences,  it  is  a  theme 
with  powerful  fascination  after  all.  There 


220     'Recreations  of  a  Presiding  Elder. 


is  no  other  more  fascinating,  save  one,  and 
that  is  the  other  and  even  more  approved 
theme  of  the  two  evangelists — namely,  the 
Redeemer  and  Saviour  of  sinners.  Let  these 
be  handled  with  earnestness,  force,  faith,  and 
simplicity,  with  directness  and  pungency, 
and  men  will  come  to  church.  Or  if  they 
stay  away,  not  all  the  elocution  from  the 
time  of  Demosthenes  to  that  of  Guttmau 
would  bring  or  save  them.  "  The  god  of 
this  world  has  blinded  the  minds"  of  such 
men;  they  may  make  an  occasional  excur- 
sion to  hear  some  pulpit  lecturing  to  kill  the 
heavy  hours  of  a  Sunday,  but  going  or  tarry- 
ing with  any  serious  intent  is  not  in  all  their 
thoughts. 

Whether  we  consider  the  duty  of  preach- 
ers, or  the  effect  they  produce,  or  the  ques- 
tion of  acceptableness,  every  thing  is  against 
this  theory  of  laying  chief  stress  on  manner 
and  trying  to  convert  the  world  by  "  excel- 
lency of  speech."  Indeed,  St.  Paul,  the 
greatest  of  Christian  ministers,  reminds  the 
Corinthians  that  when  he  came  to  them  de- 
claring the  testimony  of  God  it  was  "not 
with  excellency  of  speech  or  of  wisdom." 


An  Elocutionary  Pulpit. 


221 


And  that  he  meant  that  he  came  without 
graces  of  elocution  or  oratory  is  very  certain, 
for  these  had  always  been  much  cultivated 
among  the  Greeks,  and  orators  and  actors 
abounded  with  that  polished  and  inquisitive 
people.  But  Paul  did  not,  on  that  account, 
give  up  putting  stress  on  the  great  doctrines 
of  the  gospel,  but  "  in  weakness  and  much 
trembling"  he  sought  the  divine  power  and 
preached  "  with  the  Holy  Ghost  sent  down 
from  heaven."  To  substitute  elocution  for 
that  is  like  trusting  in  "  Baal-zebub,  the 
god  of  Ekron."  Conceding  the  desirable- 
ness of  pleasing  men  with  voice  and  manner, 
where  possible,  it  is  nevertheless  all-impor- 
tant to  maintain  the  position  that  men  are 
not  to  come  to  church  to  be  entertained. 
Drive  that  idea  out  of  their  heads,  not  by  re- 
pelling them  from  the  sanctuary  by  unpleas- 
antness of  delivery,  eccentricity  of  manner, 
and  disregard  of  common  sense  in  speaking, 
but  by  presenting  the  subjects  of  sin  and  re- 
demption in  such  overwhelming  contrast  to 
all  else,  and  with  such  pointed  application, 
that  they  shall  not  be  able  to  give  a  serious 
thought  to  the  subject  of  elocution.   Men  in 


222    Recreations  of  a  Presiding  Elder. 


battle,  exposed  to  a  fire  of  grape  and  canister, 
do  not  have  time  to  admire  the  mechanical 
dexterity  and  perfection  of  the  apparatus 
which  pours  upon  them  the  "  hail  of  death," 
nor  are  they  in  a  mood  to  discuss  questions 
of  projectiles  and  elevation. 


THE  EN3X 


Date  Due 


Apr3'36H 

L.  B.  Cat.  No.  1 137 

4 


Recreations  of  a 


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